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“Definitely did, Miss Castle.” He booped her on the nose, which was irritating, but strangely endearing. “What about you?”
“Static. Very static. We didn’t even really do holidays. Well, one that I can remember.”
“Yeah? Where’d you go?”
“Scarborough. It’s the only time I’ve seen the sea.”
“Wow. That’s crazy. The only time?”
She nodded. She really didn’t want to get into the reasons why, as considering them left her with a scratchy feeling under her skin, and actually, she was weirdly enjoying herself despite how terrifyingly wrong everything had gone today. Paul was a rather charming companion, despite his scary appearance.
“Will you stop objectifying me?” she admonished, before he could ask anything else about her past. “You’re staring at my boobs.”
He looked embarrassed for all of a millisecond. “Will do. Will try to,” he muttered. “But you’d better stop drooling over my abs.”
“I wasn’t.”
Leastways, not right now. Although she had been watching him paddle with considerable interest.
“Were too. Seen you looking on the bus.”
“I was looking lower.”
That made him bark with laughter. “Yeah, because objectifying my rattlesnake is so much better.” She folded her arms tighter, miffed at having had the tables turned. “I’m just curious, that’s all. It’s not like I have one of my own to admire, or pierce.”
“Touché.”
Except, “They’re not pierced. Is that a disappointment?”
He shrugged, oar posed above the water, before dipping below again. “Not particularly.”
“You’re sucking your tongue. May as well say it, whatever it is you’re holding off saying.”
Interestingly, his focus was on her face now, rather than lower. “I’m just kinda worried that you’re going to try to steal it.”
“Your cock?”
“The jewellery.”
“Maybe I will,” she huffed, then pushed her tongue firmly into her cheek, despite being slightly pissed off. She was not a thief, and who the hell would steal something like that? They drifted along for a moment. This section of the river was broader and more sluggish than where they’d set out from. It would almost have been pleasant, if it wasn’t for the dark, and the cold, and the low seating of the coat dinghy. “It’s almost a shame we can’t conduct an exchange,” she mused. “Your cock for my boobs.”
“Prefer them attached,” he muttered. “The real fun of them comes from them being part of something else, namely you.”
“What,moi? You’re intrigued by this?” She raised her hands then lowered them, drawing a curvaceous wave either side of her person.
“You’re cute, Castle. That’s in a slightly deranged, kidnappy way. Damn, maybe I’m succumbing to that syndrome. What’s it called when you fall for your captor?”
Jodi snorted. “You’re way weirder than I am. I at least tried to make a bid for freedom. You’ve not tried to escape once.” And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had ample opportunity.
Paul sprayed her with water as he switched the oar to the other side of the boat. “That,” –he said, using it to gesticulate– “is because there’s never been a point where I couldn’t leave. What are you going to do to me, exactly? It’s not like you’ve an offensive weapon, and I can outrun you without breaking a sweat. Reckon I’m also the better swimmer.”
All good points. She pursed her lips. The very worst she could ever have done to him was abandon him at the side of the road, and that option had died alongside Bertha. If she ever kidnapped anyone in the future, she’d be sure to come up with a better plan.
“I’m the one who should be scared of you.”
She had been, initially. Sort of. But there was a vibe about him. An aura that said, “you’re in safe hands. I might look like a beast, but I take care of small things.” He was actually, probably, the least threatening man she’d ever spent any time with.
“True. You should be scared. I’m a very scary person.” He pulled what she presumed was meant to be a threatening expression, but actually was more reminiscent of a teddy bear pleading for porridge—cute, endearing, and well, if there was anything scary about it, it was the tickle of heat it produced between her thighs.
