Page 45 of Property of Rattler

“Much as I’d like to see you contorting yourself, I don’t think I’m up to it.” He grins. “Anyway, we haven’t got a caller.”

I nod. “True that.” I’m actually relieved. Just the thought of Rattler straddling me to get his hands or feet on the coloured circles has an unwanted effect on me. I continue looking. “There are a few jigsaws… oh, and…” I pull out my next found and wave it triumphantly. “A set of cards.”

“Now you’re talking. Gin Rummy?”

I haven’t played that for years. “Sure, if you remind me of the rules.”

He gets out his phone. “I’ve just got to refresh my memory. Oh, yeah.” He proceeds to read the instructions for how to play the game.

Once we’ve both got the hang of it, we start. Whether it’s down to luck or skill, he wins three games in a row. Which obviously pleases him, as he looks up and grins. “Should have placed bets.”

“I don’t have money to throw away.”

The corners of his mouth turn up. “What about strip Gin Rummy?”

I doubt that’s even a thing, but I blush in any event. “No fucking way.” He’s already seen more than I wanted him to see. “Let’s play Snap.”

“Strip Snap?” He raises a brow.

“Get lost,” I growl.

But he acquiesces, and we’re soon playing the child’s game. He swings his legs off the couch so he can pick up speed. Pretty soon, we’re laughing and pulling the piles of cards together as we each shout ‘Snap’. And hey, this time I win, not just the first, butalso the second and third games. Then he starts to react faster, and soon we’re even.

When we’ve both had enough of the cards, he asks about the jigsaws. I find one of an old steam train, and we move to the dining table and start the puzzle, both of us first finding the edge pieces.

Occasionally, our hands touch. At first, I pulled away and apologised, but as we start building the picture, I stop saying sorry. I realise this afternoon we’ve become far more relaxed around each other than we’ve been up to now.

The laughter, the smiles, and the minor achievements as one of us finds a critical piece seem to flow easily.

The picture’s only half-finished before I realise time’s moved on, and I should start thinking about dinner.

When I suggest it, he shakes his head. “Babe, you’ve done all the cooking. How about I throw a couple of steaks on the grill?”

“Your ankle?”

He dismisses my concern with a wave. “Standing still ain’t going to be too much of a problem.”

While I accept his offer to make dinner, and appreciate the sentiment, of course, it’s me preparing the baked potatoes and the salad to go with it. To give him his due, he seasons and grills the steaks perfectly.

After eating, we do switch on the television and pick up the biker series where we left off yesterday.

We watch in companionable silence. Part of me is focused on what’s happening on the screen, while another part is reflecting on the events of the day. Apart from the embarrassment of him seeing me naked, I’ve had more fun than I can remember in a long time.

Maybe Rattler—no, he asked me to call him Flynn—well, maybe he’s not as bad a companion as I thought he’d be.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

RATTLER

I’d seen her naked.I’ve seen her in her figure-hugging jeans and in the tight shorts and t-shirts she wears, but the clothes only hinted at the banging body she was hiding underneath. It’s probably down to the fact I haven’t had sex in days, but when I thoughtlessly barged into her room, believing she’d had ample time to strip and redress, and had seen her as bare as the day she’d been born, my mind had been completely blown.

Her breasts were perky, obviously natural, and looked just the right size, even though she’d quickly covered them with her hand. Her pussy? Well, she’d tried to hide that, but her toned legs and flat stomach led me to believe that was perfect as well. And when she turned that pear-shaped ass toward me? I damn near lost my mind. I knew she was a runner, but she obviously does some strength training shit too. Her whole body was toned, her waist slim, and her hips just meaty enough to hang on to.

The thought had occurred to me,I’m married to her. She’s mine.But she gave no sign she was interested in me, though I hadn’t missed the way her eyes had gone to my quickly swelling dick. She was nervous, on edge. If she’d been a club girl, I’dhave made a move, but luckily, I’d come to my senses and had refrained. The only inappropriate action I made had been the suggestive wink she’d studiously ignored.

This morning, she’d surprised the shit out of me when she quickly learned how to fire that gun. I’d seen prospects take longer to achieve the accuracy she’d demonstrated after only a couple of shots.

Then, this afternoon, after she’d gotten over her embarrassment at me seeing her naked thing and relaxed, I’d had more fun with a woman that didn’t involve sex than I could remember. I’d been shocked as hell to find it wasn’t a hardship to be with her.