And something about him reminding me I wanted to talk and giving me that opportunity even though he had “shit to do” made me feel even cozier and more relaxed.
However, in the cold light of day but waking up in bed with warm Mace, I forgot what I wanted to talk about.
I searched my foggy brain for clues as to what I wanted to talk about when Mace’s arm moved, his hand splayed on my midriff, his body slid away and he pushed me to my back.
He leaned in, the front of his body pressed against my side; he got up on his elbow and looked down at me. His green eyes were warm and alert and I remembered again how much I liked the look of Mace first thing in the morning.
As I looked into his eyes, my brain stil foggy, stil feeling cozy and relaxed, my thoughts on Mace’s eyes (then they careened off in the direction of about seven thousand of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand other things about Mace I liked), he looked into mine. This lasted for a beat that turned into two then three then his mouth moved and he looked like he was fighting a smile.
“Kitten, I don’t have al day,” he told me and my head jerked, pul ing me out of my Mace Happy Thoughts Reverie.
Shit!
Okay.
Concentrate.
The Talk with Mace…
It came to me.
“You’re screwing with my head,” I informed him and there was no doubt about it and I had the last five minutes as evidence. He was definitely screwing with my head.
His reply was instantaneous. “Yeah. And?” I blinked with surprise at his ready answer.
Then I stared.
He didn’t even try to deny it.
Al fogginess left me and my mind became clear. I did an ab curl to sitting position, dislodging his body and twisted to face him.
“Wel , stop doing it!” I demanded.
He did an ab curl too, his hands came to my waist and he lifted me over his body. Then he yanked my knees to bent so I was straddling him and his knees came up, caging me in as his arms wrapped around me.
I pushed against his bare chest and pressed into the bed with my knees.
This didn’t work.
“Mace, let me up.”
He didn’t let me up.
“Stel a, I got about ten minutes then I gotta get going. You got more you want to say?”
I quit trying to get away, stunned at his arrogance and annoyed that he was ignoring my wishes (yet again) and snapped, “Hel yes!”
“Then say it.”
“Al right. I’l say it. Or, I should say, I’l repeat it. I want you to move out. I want this to be over, whatever this is, right effing now. I want you to quit screwing with my head. And I want you to stop interfering with my band.”
“No.”
I waited for him to say more but apparently that was it.
“No?” I asked.
“No,” he repeated, like that was that then he went on.