his weight, he rolled over so that he wouldn’t crush her.
She curled into his side because, without his body restraining hers, without his length deep inside her, she no longer felt complete—she needed some kind of connection with him...the first man she’d been with since Peter.
Reminders of her darling’s death always saddened her. Today the sadness left her far too vulnerable.
Please, please don’t let Baden’s finish be as deplorable as last time.
When her heartbeat evened out, and he was still beside her, she decided to test the waters. “How do you feel?”
“You can’t guess?” There was a teasing note to his tone, and she relaxed.
“Are you in pain?” She traced her finger along the edge of his butterfly tattoo. “Does this hurt you?”
“Ask me again when I awake from my pleasure coma.”
She snickered, propping up on her elbow to meet his gaze. Hesitant, she drew her fingertip to his nipple, circling. He didn’t flinch, and he didn’t grimace, and satisfaction flowed over her like liquid sunshine.
When she lifted her hand, he grabbed her wrist to force her palm back to his chest.
From demanding she never touch him to insisting she never let him go. Oh, how their circumstances had changed!
“Next time,” he said, “I’m going to kiss you while I take you.”
She smiled at him. “So certain there will be a next time, eh?”
“With this face?” He patted his cheeks. “Yes.”
She giggled as he removed the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the trash can. “You are marginally handsome...I suppose.” Always end on a positive note. “But you are very, very good with your hands. And your mouth.”
He stretched out at her side, as if the need to connect haunted him just as fiercely. “You forgot to mention my cock.”
She leaned over and ran his earlobe through her teeth. “I didn’t forget. I was saving the best for last.”
“Were you now?”
“Mmm.” She stood to shaky legs and held out her hand. “You’ve proven your skills in the bedroom. Now it’s time to prove your skills in the kitchen. I’m hungry.” They needed to be able to keep this good vibe in different situations.
“Nothing is ever free.” He took her hand but not to let her pull him to his feet; he yanked her back on the bed—or rather, on top of him. “I’ll make you a sandwich...for a price.”
* * *
Baden puttered around the kitchen with a smile on his face. A smile! His head was clearer than ever, the beast calm, the tension drained from his body and a beautiful woman was asleep in his bed. This was the life he’d always dreamed for himself. The life he’d never thought he’d have.
“You look happy.”
Fox. His smile faded. He hated that she’d approached without his senses being alerted—won’t happen again.
Remembering his promise to Katarina, he nodded at her in greeting.
“The human is good for you,” she said.
“Yes.” He finished prepping the egg-and-cheese sandwich and returned the leftover ingredients to the refrigerator. “Tell me. Who do you distrust most this day?”
A pause. Then, “The human.”
He stiffened. “Why?”
“She makes you happy...but for how long? She’s a liability. And what if she’s captured and tortured by your enemies? She’ll flip faster than you can say This is shit. What if she’s a spy? I’ve worked with Hunters, so I know the type. Goodie-goodie, but only on the outside. And what if a faction of Hunters has survived, operating in the shadows? She could be Bait, meant to lure you to your second death.”
Was this how he’d sounded, all those centuries ago?
He knew what would come next: an attack against the one she distrusted.
She should fear Baden. If she harmed Katarina, he would harm her in turn. A thousand times over.
“Sit at the table,” he commanded. “Now.”
She forgot her torrent of suspicion long enough to grumble, “Wow. Are you always this affable?”
“Yes. Do you want my help or not?”
She sat with a huff.
He cracked the egg into a pan, saying, “When the demon hits you with thoughts of someone’s possible betrayal, write down every good thing you remember about the person. Nice things they’ve said to you. Kind deeds they’ve done. The way they smile. Then read the list over and over until the demon shuts his foul, lying mouth.” For years, those lists had been the only thing capable of stopping an attack against his best friends.
She regarded him warily. “If making lists is the golden ticket to peace, why did you allow yourself to be killed?”