Page 91 of Root

Maybe I could use Dante as a bargaining chip—

The cat lifts his head where he’s curled next to me and gives me a long feline look, one that seems to know and dismiss my thoughts. He’s probably right, the ‘64s would give him straight back.

Although…I’m betting Dante would do some damage first.

Rush disturbs the equilibrium in the room, just by being here.

It’s been a couple of days since we had sex and I’m still not ready to think about it. And Rush…

My gaze goes to him as he sends me an amused scowl as only Rush can. He sits up and pours a drink, taking a sip and shuddering. “How the fuck do you handle this straight up all the time. It’s smooth and all, it’s one of Nikolai’s, but don’t you want a nice bourbon? Some Irish whiskey?”

“I’ll get you a pretty pink umbrella for your drink and explain the virtues of tequila when your balls drop.”

He’s off the chair lightning fast and on one knee next to me. It shouldn’t be a dominating stance, and yet I feel it shiver its way through me, curling down on my inner Domme to tease out the submissive part I’m not sure I’m a fan of.

“If,” he says, mouth close to mine, tequila teasing my senses enough I want to lick his lips and steal a taste, “my balls are tight and high it’s a temporary state, caused by you.”

“I turn you prepubescent? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

He doesn’t laugh, even though amusement and heat dance in his eyes. He slides a finger over my bottom lip. “Definitely not that. Hard, excited and wanting to come? Now that’s what I mean, what I’m willing to discuss.”

He traces over the length of my nose, then along the edges of my eyelashes. Combined with the soft smile and the light in his blue eyes, I want to wrestle him down and fight.

Instead, I go stiff.

“I’m not.”

“Too scary for you, Jessie?” This time he brushes his lips against me.

If it was my lips or breasts, I’d forgive the move, but he skims my shoulder and then captures my hand, bringing it up to his mouth for a sweet instant before letting it go.

No one can forgive that.

“Too boring.” I shove at him, but he doesn’t move.

“You’re into fisting, gotcha.”

I glare at him, grabbing the comfort zone. “You’re obsessed with fisting. I can make some calls. I know some big dudes into fisting.”

“Depends,” he says, face deadpan as he slips fingers around my throat, resting them there like a human collar. “Am I invited to watch?”

“You’re the star.”

“And here I thought you were gonna put on a live fucking sex show for me.”

I shove him away. “You got your drink, go…do…whatever it is you’re up to each day.”

“Filling shoes, showing the world some Rush-style.” He sits on the floor near me and ruffles Dante’s shining black coat. The cat purrs motor loud. “It’s work, Jess.”

“So that’s why you’re dressed like your cousin?”

“Better dressed, more style. But like I was saying, we should swap. You can go break skulls, and I’ll read and eat bonbons.

“What the fuck’s a bonbon?”

“Fancy ass chocolates. Sometimes big bad Nikolai buys them for Rose. Orders them from some fancy place in Manhattan.”

Of course. “I eat regular bodega chocolate bars.”

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