Page 40 of Slay Ride

Cat

When I woke up, I was curled underneath Bennett’s arm like I belonged there. The memories of seeing his ball-bag piercings seemed like a distant dream. Or a nightmare. I haven’t decided yet.

He was still fast asleep, sitting up with his head dropped back as I hurried to dress. As I looked at his mouth, I remembered where it had been.

I set to work immediately, busying myself in the dark so that I didn’t have to think about it. After building a fresh fire so that we wouldn’t freeze to death, I braved the cold and dumped the still-frozen chicken into the snow outside.

That’s where I am now. In the dark, outside, with no clue how I’m going to come back from this.

Or if I even want to.

All the teasing and mean-spiritedness between us feels more like foreplay now. That’s how it seems toSober Cat, at least. I don’t know how Sober Bennett feels, and I’m too afraid to wake him up and ask him.

I kick some snow over the chicken and hope a bear doesn’t sniff it out before we’ve been rescued. That’s the last thing I need right now. When the choice is between the bear and the man, can’t I pick neither? Maybe Eve is onto something.

The door opens behind me, and a squinty-eyed Bennett shivers in the doorway. “What the fuck are you doing out here? Get back inside. It’s only four in the morning. Too early to risk walking back to the mansion.”

“Is that what we’ll have to do?” I ask. My voice still hasn’t gone back to normal, but at least I don’t sound like Joan Rivers anymore.

“I doubt it,” he says. “Just get inside before you get sick.”

I wait for the hammer to fall, for him to follow up his concern with a low blow, but it doesn’t come. He just stands there and waits for me to get back inside the cabin.

“Now take off those fucking clothes,” he adds when the door closes behind me. “We have a theory to test, remember?”

“Right,” I say, though I wish he wasn’t treating this like a science fair project. Maybe we aren’t on the same wavelength after all.

As I strip away the layers, I try to recall what gave me such a massive change of heart in the first place. I mean, we’re talking about Bennett here. Yeah, he’s hot and protective and about as alpha male as alpha male gets, but he’s also as mean as a one-eyed dog with a bone. Now that he’s back to the gruff-asshole persona, I don’t know if I feel the same as I did when I had liquor to numb the bite of his words.

I reach for the bottle of whiskey, but he pulls it away. “We’re doing this sober. If we want to know how we really feel, we have to have our full faculties.”

I lick my lips and look up at him. I don’t know if Icando this without Jack’s help. It’s just so fucking weird.

“Unless you’re rethinking this?” He steps closer and tilts my chin so that I’m forced to look into his eyes. “I know I’m a prick, but I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to. If this isn’t what you want, we can stop right now.”

Oh fuck, now he’s talking sweet again. I’m Ado Annie, being seduced by the peddler’s words. If he tells me I’m like a Persian kitten with a soft, round tail, I’ll melt.

“Kitten, what do you want?”

Close enough.

I rip off the last remaining fabric between us and step into him. “I want to know how I really feel about you. Let’s fucking do this.”

He pulls me into his body as we stand before the fire. My rational mind screams for me to stop, but I can’t. I’m careering down a hill at full speed, and I don’t care what I crash into.

His hands fall to my hips, squeezing my flesh and pulling me closer. My hand moves to his rock-hard dick and comes away sticky.

“Oh, shit. We’ve got to clean this honey off before we fuck,” I say, though I’m not sure how we’ll manage it. Heating snow will take ages on that shitty stove.

Bennett smirks at me, then leans down. When he stands again, he holds the jar of honey toward me. “I set it by the fire so it would get warm again. Instead of cleaning up, I say we make more of a mess.”

Before I can argue that this is unsanitary and liable to give me a yeast infection, he pours warm honey over my breasts, then lowers his head to lick it off.

Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad after all. Monistat has come a long way, after all.

“Lie on the quilt,” he says.

My legs can’t move fast enough, even though my brain says I shouldn’t look so eager. But what do I care? This is a secret. Hewants everyone to know what we’re up to just as much as I do, which is not at all.

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