She removed her finger and her mouth. Took him a second to figure out the vibration on his lower belly was actually Amery’s chuckle.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and caught her attention. “What was that giggle for?”
“I believed you called out nirvana at one point.” She offered him a sly smile and tongued his belly button.
“That it was.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Goddamn, woman, I love you.”
Amery pushed up and away from him. “Of course you say you love me after your dick has been in my mouth and I just blew you to nirvana.”
What the f**k? Rather than call her on her bitchy comment, he calmly said, “I tell you I love you all the time, not just after sex.” He stared at her, letting her unspoken words, words he was so desperate to hear from her, hang in the air between them, almost like a dare. Tell me you love me, Amery. Come on. It’s not that hard.
His response didn’t prompt her to do anything but retreat. She rolled off the bed, slipped on her robe, and announced, “I feel like making popcorn,” and fled from the room.
He resisted all of five seconds before he punched the pillows. Maybe she didn’t love him, but her discounting how he felt about her wasn’t fair and it sure as hell wasn’t happening again.
• • •
NOTHING on the sports channels caught his attention.
Amery wandered in munching on popcorn and plopped beside him. “Anything good on?”
“Not really. Was there something you wanted to watch?”
“What’s on the classic TV channel?”
“I don’t think I can sit through another episode of Bewitched.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “I know you’re secretly hoping Kung Fu is on.”
He groaned.
“Maybe I’ll check out your DVDs.”
That would take her all of two minutes.
So when she was still pacing in front of the bookshelves ten minutes later, he knew she was nervous—which caused his heart to skip a beat. Was she about to tell him that he’d have to make room for her DVDs and stuff when she moved in? “Something on your mind?”
“Yeah. But I feel stupid bringing it up now.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to think I sucked your dick in hopes it’d soften you up.”
“Baby, you sucking my dick makes me harder, not softer.”
“You know what I mean.”
Ronin stood, removed the popcorn bowl from her hands and set it on the table. “No bullshit between us. What’s going on?”
“I need a favor.”
He kept his face blank and banked his disappointment. Why did it always boil down to this? When he’d called TP earlier to ask about the protection business around Blue’s dojo, TP said he needed a favor and insisted on setting up a meeting to discuss it. “What kind of favor?”
“You know those supersexy pictures I took of you blindfolded that day?”
“Like I could ever forget that,” he murmured.
“I know I told you they’d be for my eyes only. But I heard from Cherry Starr, and she wants me to do another cover for her. Evidently the book has been really popular, and she’s decided to write a series. So for the next book, she wants a bound guy on the cover. She isn’t in any rush, so I do have time to set up another photo shoot. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you first.”
No, immediately jumped into his head. Given his level of expertise in two disciplines—jujitsu and rope bondage—it’d be . . . embarrassing if anyone recognized him. Especially if they believed he was submissive behind closed doors.
Letting silence distort the mood hadn’t been intentional on his part. So when Amery said, “Forget it,” and tore out of the room, he realized he’d been so lost in possibilities that he hadn’t answered her.
Of course Amery would assume he’d hedged because he intended to say no.
But don’t you plan to say no?
Ronin found her at the bar fixing herself a cocktail.
“I’m driving you to drink?”
She shook her head. “It’s just been a crazy day. And you dragging me to bed two seconds after I walked in tonight and trussing me up to ravish me made me forget the stress of my day. So now I’m making the stress reliever I intended to.” She pulled out another lowball glass. “Want one?”
“What are you making?”
“A White Russian. The sweet goes very well with the salty.”
“I’ll pass.”
After measuring out the booze, Amery headed to the kitchen, adding ice and cream to the glass. She stirred, sipped, and sighed.
“Look. About the photo for the cover . . .”
She held up her hand. “Forget I mentioned it.”
Ronin ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t say no.”
“But you didn’t say yes or maybe either. Which sounds a lot like no.” She took another sip of her drink. “It’s fine, Ronin.”
“Where’s your folksy North Dakota–ism that reminds me that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander?” he prompted.
“It had crossed my mind. But I’m not going to harangue you. I’ll find another way. Shouldn’t be hard to find another male model. Of course, whichever young hottie I do find and convince to get half naked in front of me won’t be nearly as hot, sexy, and compelling as you.”