Page 46 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“Where do the fries go?” I asked. “When you eat them.”

Prudence’s nostrils flared and his lip curled again. Oh god. Why was pissing him off quickly becoming my favorite pastime? Man. I wished I could be hired as his personal gnat. Just buzz, buzz, buzzing away around his shoulders so I could watch the way his face shifted into an expression that said I’m going to tear you apart.

Delicious.

“That’s between the fries and God,” Prudence deadpanned.

It took me a solid minute to realize he was joking. And then I laughed, a horrible, disgusting snort choking its way up my throat as I wagged my head in disbelief. I hadn’t laughed this much in ages.

“You know jokes?!” I slapped a hand against my chest in mock-surprise. “I didn’t know you knew jokes.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I grinned and then dug around inside the empty McDonald’s bag for the fry stragglers. I offered them to him, weirdly excited his fingers might brush mine. The man had quite literally explored almost every part of me and yet the idea of touching his hand like middle-schoolers on a first date, made me weak in the knees. Once again, Prudence didn’t respond.

I blinked expectantly, cocking my head in confusion.

Was he being shy again?

Could Prudence even be shy?

“C’mon, you know you want them.” I waggled my fistful enticingly at him one last time, gasping in surprise when Prudence lunged forward and snatched them away immediately, chowing down like a starving man.

Wow.

I never knew it could be sexy to watch someone scarf down potato-shaped-heart-attacks but, man. Prudence could make anything look like a prelude to a porn scene. Even snorting fries.

My laptop screen blinked off. Just another reminder that I was allowing myself to be distracted from my true goals. I jiggled the mouse with a sigh till the screensaver came back on.

“Okay, so—” I blinked. “This was fun—and also weirdly informational. But I really need to finish these applications or you—and I—are no longer going to have somewhere to live.”

I moved to wipe my hands off on my jeans (real pants today) but Prudence’s fingers wrapped around my wrist to stop me. He squeezed, and my heart rate kicked up a notch. It rabbited around my chest as Prudence shuffled close, his hungry eyes dark with intent, the light playing games with the shadows beneath his cheekbones as he brought my fingers to his lips.

What was he—

Oh.

His tongue flickered out, wet and shockingly frigid as he dragged it up the length of my middle finger. He was tentative at first. Then he grew bolder, tracing the slippery appendage along the sensitive skin between my fingers as he chased the leftover salt.

By the time he was finished, I was flushed and breathing a little too hard.

I offered him my other hand eagerly and he arched an eyebrow before he pushed my hand away in denial and retreated. He stood next to the table again, awkwardly statuesque and I picked my jaw up off the ground, shocked and more than a little turned on from his little display. I wiped my hand off on my pants.

Did I have a finger fetish?

No.

Maybe?

Probably, if my dick was any indicator.

Prudence continued to stand sentinel, and I shook my head to clear it, flushed all over and semi-hard. Job applications. C’mon. Job. Jobs. Jobbity-jobs. I glared down at my dick. Then at Prudence, because he was still hovering.

“Sit, Casper the-not-so-friendly ghost. Just watching you stand is making me tired.” I’d always been a bit bossy. It came with being the oldest, and the person that did most of the caregiving. Mom had done her best, but that also meant most of the time she was working to make ends meet. And when she wasn’t working she was catching up on much needed sleep.

She’d been present as much as she could.

But...I’d picked up the slack for most of our lives. Especially when Mom went on another bender with some random boyfriend she was “so sure would make a great father for us.” Spoiler alert: they never had. At least until Paul came along when I was in high school.

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