Page 95 of The Gathering
“No, nothing,” she said, sipping.
Fuck him. “Pretty sure I heard you say something.”
“I did and I took it back.”
“Why did you take back?”
“It wasn’t right.”
He let the silence breathe in his cock for a second. “And why wasn’t it?”
“I asked if you wanted to.”
“Wanted to what?”
“Merge,” she gasped, setting her tea down, stressed with his mental delay.
He stared at her, his lust so fucking hot he instinctually knew to be worried. “I do want to merge eventually,” he said, pretending she asked it rhetorically. “And you?”
“I… do, yes,” she forced out. “But… I don’t have any prospects and doubt I ever will.”
He held his jaw shut, remembering who he was and what it would mean to take advantage of this beautiful creature. “I’m sure you will find a match one day.” He wanted to rip his own throat out for uttering those words.
She gave a derisive snort. “I’m twenty-four years old and you’re the first real person that has visited me. The odds are not in my favor, especially now.”
She shot off her chair and went into the house.
Fuck, this was bad.
His phone buzzed like a fucking lifeline, and he fished it from his coat pocket.No jet available till tonight. Call your Marsh King for a ride, perhaps.
She suddenly appeared again, sitting back down with her tea. “I lied about prospects,” she said. “My mother wants to move closer to swamp communities to better help with work. With Pah-Pah being in his condition, it’s inevitable I realize. This will put me right in the middle of prospects.”
Was she provoking him?
It was fucking working.
“And there you have it, problem solved,” he said, ready to know the answer to that provoking question.
“Our jet won’t be able to pick me up till tonight.”
“Yourjet?”
“Yes.”
Her chair creaked as she slowly rocked. “A jet. In the swamps of all things,” she murmured in her cup. “Do you have prospects?” she asked. “Would you like more tea?”
“I still have plenty, thank you. I’m going slow to avoid an intellectual orgasm in broad daylight.”
Whatever bothered her was wiped away with his wit and it was sick how much he intended to leverage that.
“Tell me about your prospects,” she said casually. “What sort of girl do you plan to merge with?”
Her need to talk about fucking had him back in lust hell.
“If you want to wait, I can bring you wherever you need in the morning,” she said. “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in.”
Holy, royal fuck. She wanted him to stay, she wanted to talk about fucking, she wanted to fuckhim.
