She pauses and glances at the ceiling. “You know I have an English Literature degree. Someday I’d like to write a book, but here I am, unable to find the right words to describe last night.”
Maybe writing a book is something she could stick to. Maybe instead of running this farm, that’s something she could do to prove herself to the people who have no faith in her. I need her to fail, but I want her to succeed at something.
She taps her chin. “Now how can I put this?”
“Mind-blowing,” I offer. “Jay is a sexual god, a Titan among men. Sir Come Again.” I chuckle at my own stupidity, still high from my post-orgasm bliss all these hours later. “Wait, I got it. Captain Orgasmo.”
“Captain Orgasmo?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She laughs. “Nothing, I love it. Apparently, you are as creative as Jack, and yes, you are all those things.”
I angle my head and touch a strand of her hair, running the silky softness between my fingers and wishing I was between her legs again. “Are you complimenting me?”
She touches my hand, runs her finger up and down my arm. “I actually believe you just complimented yourself. But what I want to say is last night was amazing. Neither of us are looking for anything. We made that clear, so if you want to go, go right ahead.” She waves her hand toward the door. “No hard feelings. I don’t want this to be awkward. But if you want to stay, have breakfast, that’s okay, too.”
I nod, surprised at the easy, casual way she’s dealing with this and how comfortable we both feel after a night of hot, open, honest sex.
“I can make eggs and bacon,” I suggest.
She cringes. “Oh, God, no. I’m off bacon.”
I laugh and tug on her blankets. “Why don’t you jump in the shower? I’ll run back to my place and get us some coffee, and then I’ll collect some fresh eggs and cook them for us.”
“Be careful. Princess Lay-A has been rather bitchy lately. She pecked at me, and I contemplated making chicken strips for dinner.”
I shake my head. “Chicken you’ll eat, but bacon is a no-go. Your priorities are messed up, my friend.”
She smiles, like she adores the idea of us being friends. Hell, I do, too. But then I remember I shouldn’t be getting too close to her.
“One thing,” she says.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t let Tyler or Beck know you slept here.” She runs her finger over the bedding. “I don’t want them or anyone to get the wrong idea about us.”
“I don’t want that, either.” I frown and look down. “My mother is a different story. I can’t ever seem to get anything by her. One look at me and she’ll know.”
She purses her lips. “We do kind of have sex written all over us, don’t we?”
“Yeah.”
She gives a curt nod and says, “I better get cleaned up and wash the scent of you from my skin.”
Goddammit, I kind of like the idea of my scent being all over her. Her sweet aroma is all over me, and I wish I was in more of a hurry to scrub it away.
“I’ll take the path and avoid the main house and get a shower before coming back here.” Without thinking, I lean into her and place my lips on hers. I moan against her silky, soft mouth and cup her face like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to do, but the second I realize she’s not kissing me back, I inch away.
“Oh, shit, sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” Her eyes are narrow, and her brow is furrowed as I try to apologize. “One night, I get it. Honestly, I don’t know why I did that.”
“Jay.”
“Hmm.”
“You know, I was thinking. Maybe we… Well, maybe we can do this again,” she says and plucks at an imaginary piece of lint on the blanket.
“You want to have sex again?” I ask, something niggling inside me, warning it’s not a good idea. My muscles bunch as those alarm bells jingle.
She flips her hand over, palm up, making light of the situation. “I mean, if you don’t, then—”
“I do.”
She laughs at my eagerness, and the sound is light and contagious, easing some of the tension inside of me.
She makes an imaginary mark in the air. “Points for enthusiasm,” she says. “It’s almost like it was on your mind.”
I press my hand to my forehead and think about my hound brother. “Tyler would say,