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Raising my hands with my palms outward, I couldn’t hide my smirk. “I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking it. Cut it out.”
She continued into the room, and I followed but almost knocked into her when she stopped suddenly.
My dick protested that I caught myself. It liked the idea of her under me again like in the field—but with her screaming in a much different way.
“That’s my bag.” She whipped around, pointing behind her at the duffel on the bed. “Why do you have my bag?”
“Grabbed some shit from your place. You got a cat?” I asked, worried I’d have to tell her she didn’t anymore.
“No, there’re strays I feed near work.”
Why doesn’t that surprise me?
Her head tilted. “You really went to my apartment?”
“Told you, I don’t lie.”
“No, but you do kidnap and break into other people’s apartments, so excuse me if I’m hesitant to believe you.” Taking a few steps, Ophelia looked at the bags from the lingerie store on the floor. “Okay, I’m just gonna assume those are presents for your wife and/or girlfriend because otherwise I’m gonna risk it in the van for the night.”
“Van’s gone.”
“The woods then.”
“They’re for you. I’ll explain later, but, trust me, you’ll want this shit.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and that one moment was enough to gut me. Because either she was a damn good actress, or she was innocently caught in the bullshit swirling around.
I opened my mouth, willing to tell her anything. Every damn thing. Whatever it took to get rid of the fear swimming in her big grey eyes.
Before I could, my cell chimed.
“I’m not wearing any of this,” she said as I pulled out my phone.
“Fine by me if you wanna walk around wearing nothin’ under your clothes—or without your clothes.” I paused and added, “But only when it’s just you and me.”
My focus on unlocking my phone, I almost missed her hauling back and kicking one of the bags.
But I saw and was able to step aside to dodge it without looking up.
“You got me my clothes, you can go back and get me my own damn underwear! This whole thing is so fucked, but this brings it into creepy-as-hell territory.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause,” I muttered distractedly as I read the text.
“That’s not an answer.”
I held up a finger.
And she told me where I could stick it.
Dair: Aye, you weren’t fookin’ kidding about her place.
Dair: Also, the lotto tickets in her car only won a buck. I’m keeping it.
