liked books but couldn't stand to sit still for the hours and hours required to read one. Or they'd wrestle, and once she'd thrown the leftover apple pie at him and they'd had a food fight that ruined the drapes.
Jane sighed. If it was just his dick, it wouldn't be so bad. She could always buy a vibrator. No, it was Dick. She really, really liked him. More than any guy she'd ever known, and she knew a lot of fellas. And she was having a helluva time remembering she was a prisoner. In fact, she didn't think Dick remembered much, either.
* * * * *
Her vision doubled, trebled…then her knees buckled. Luckily she was bent over the footboard, so she had some support.
Dick let go of her waist and pulled her back onto the bed. "That was…sweaty."
Panting lightly, he flopped over on the pillows. "Jane, your stamina knows no bounds.
Look at me; I'm actually out of breath. And I don't even need to breathe."
"My stamina? Look who's talking. We've been at it since—holy shit, the sun's gonna be up in another hour. You'd better beat feet back to the coffin, old man."
He snorted. "It's a bed, not a coffin. It's one of the guest beds, in fact. You're in my coffin, so to speak."
"So why don't you sleep here?"
"I've been thinking about it." He propped himself up on one elbow, bent to kiss her shoulder, then said, "More and more, actually. In the beginning I dared not leave myself at your mercy, but now I wonder."
"What the hell are you talking about? You take longer to say something than anyone I've ever met."
He didn't smile at her bitching, like he usually did. "I'd be quite helpless, Janet. If you, ah, decided to be angry, there's nothing I could do until the sun went down. And the tables in here are all made out of wood…so are the chairs. It wouldn't be difficult for someone with your determination to fashion a rudimentary stake."
She'd never thought of that. She couldn't believe she'd never thought of that. "Oh."
She mulled it over for a minute, then said, "Well, I don't especially want to stake you in the guts."
"The guts I wouldn't mind so much. How about the heart?"
She rolled over and rested her chin on his chest. "There either. I dunno, you're okay.
When you're not being a total shit. Stay, go, I don't give a fuck."
"Well, I can hardly turn down such a warm invitation." Still, he glanced nervously at the table in the corner before climbing under the covers. "Ah, well, here goes nothing.
Climb in next to me."
"I have chicken grease under my nails," she pointed out.
"So, we'll take a nice hot shower together later tonight."
"Sounds like a date." She snuggled in next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. His body was still slightly warm from their earlier exertions and, as she pressed closer to him, remained that way.
"Ahhhhh," he sighed. "You're better than my electric blanket."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. You should write for fuckin' soap operas," she grumbled, but inside she was glowing. He was trusting her with his life.
He knew he was easy prey, and he was going to sleep anyway. It spoke volumes about his true feelings for her…and her status as his "prisoner".
Well, shit, she thought, drifting into sleep. Her palm rested over his heart, which beat once or twice every minute. Maybe there's hope for us after all.
Chapter Nine
Richard woke, as he had for the last several decades, just as the sun slipped past the horizon line. He felt Jane's head resting on his shoulder and smiled. A wonderful way to start the evening. And he was warm, so delightfully warm. She was better than a hot tub. He'd have to do something really nice for her for not killing him. Like…let her go?
He couldn't. He knew it was the right thing to do, knew he had no business keeping her as a sort of mid-sized boy toy, but every time he thought of his condo emptied of her refreshing presence, he wanted to shiver. Hell, he wanted to go for a walk in the sunshine.
He couldn't even pretend it was about revenge anymore. Even if she had lied, they were square after that first night. No, he was keeping her because he was a selfish monster and he couldn't bear to let her go. To be brutally honest, he was thrilled she was sticking to her story, because