Page 132 of Heat & Deceit
He’s not lying.
Nova turns to me as they leave the room. I force myself to stay rooted in my seat as she pads in my direction. Without shame, I drink in the sight of her. Those hips. God, those fucking hips. She stops next to me, and I lose a smidgen of control, reaching up and grabbing those delicious curves. Squealing, she places her hand on my shoulder to steady herself as I yank her into my lap.
“You’re mine for the day,” I tell her.
“Just the day?” she hedges.
“Forever,” I correct, running my hands over her hips and thighs. She squirms in my lap and presses her legs together, but there’s no hiding the scent of her desire. I cup her cunt, and she sucks in a breath.
“The security—”
“I’ll behave while they’re here.”
She glances down at my hand.
“Mostly.” I press my palm to her, and she writhes against it, taking a little bit of the pleasure I’m offering in spite of herself. “Cuddle and watch a movie?”
Her body trembles as I grind the heel of my hand over her clit. “Yes,” she rasps.
I have a sneaking suspicion that, if I teased her long enough, she’d forget about propriety and demand I fuck her. While I won’t fuck her with someone who isn’t pack coming in and out of the house, there are still plenty of things I can do to her in the meantime.
* * *
NOVA
Once we’re properly prepared with snacks and drinks, we head to the living room. I try not to gawk at the thick, white beams converging in the middle of the high ceiling or the light fixture that definitely cost more than anything I’ve ever owned. The space is super cozy, with a couch with extra big cushions and wide recliners that promise comfort. Dark gray walls, accented with pure white trim and accessories, all but invite me in. Bookshelves line the wall on either side of the TV, and a big, rustic-style coffee table sits prominently on a rug that’s so soft, my bare toes sink into it.
“What’s your favorite movie?” Lycus sets his handful of snacks—popcorn, candy, wavy chips—on the table.
I set the drinks—soda and sparkling flavored water—down as well. “We should watch something you like.”
“No. What’s your favorite movie?”
“You won’t like it.”
He gives me a look. “Don’t be stubborn.”
I scoff. “I’m not being stubborn.” I cross my arms over my chest, then realize how it looks and immediately drop them to my sides.
“What’s the title?” He picks up the remote and gives me an expectant look. We stare at each other for a few beats. The glint of determination in his eyes tells me this could turn into a classic Lycus-style argument if I don’t give in.
While I love bickering with him, I decide to relent. “Fine. No laughing. It’sPerfect Match.”
To his credit, he mostly doesn’t laugh. His eyebrows rise so high on his forehead they practically disappear, and his lips firmly press together. His shoulders shake, and I drop my hands to my hips.
“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”
“It’s a B-list romance movie.” He says this as if I don’t know that it’s made by the budget film company. They’re a familiar comfort, and while the acting isn’t worthy of fancy trophies or commendations, there’s something about the cozy stories that makes me happy.
“We should just watch something else.”
“No, no,” he says quickly. “We’re watching it.”
“No. Not if you’re going to laugh or criticize it.”
“I promise not to.” He turns on the TV and searches for the movie on the streaming app.
I give him a look. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
