Page 20 of My Orc (Secret) Boss

She sucked in a breath and tipped her head back to stare up at me, wide-eyed. I realized I was also holding my breath, watching my own reflection in her dark eyes.

Slowly, she exhaled. “You…really don’t mind?”

I hadn’t thought this through, but Simbel would most likely be leaving soon, right? He’d made himself scarce for tonight, and I knew he had a big date tomorrow night. But maybe I should start small.

“Well, if nothing else, the showers are nice,” I offered. It wasn’t an agreement, but an invitation of sorts.

“Yeah.” She relaxed. “Yeah, okay.” Her nose wrinkled as she stepped back. “I probably need a shower. I’ll…go get my stuff.”

“Take your time. I’ll get started on the pizza.”

Maya

The shower feltgood.Three weeks of bathing in the sink downstairs—washcloths and worrying about my long hair getting stuck in the drain—all sort of washed away. I used Memnon’s shower, just because it felt less weird somehow than using his brother’s.

And I must’ve been in there for a really long time because by the time I emerged, the whole apartment smelled delicious.

I hurried to wring out as much water as I could from my hair, then pulled on one of those little sundresses with the built-in bra. I’d grabbed it from my stack of laundry downstairs because it was cute, and I’d spent all week with Memnon looking decidedlyun-cute.

And because I really, really wanted him to think I was cute.

This week had taught me that not only was he hot as hell, but he was also thoughtful and interesting and insightful, and he made me laugh with his really dry sense of humor.

I wanted to hang out with him.

Whether or not he meant the whole “stay with me” comment, I was here right now, and that shower had been amazing, and I felt damn good.

I was brushing my hair as I stepped into the living room. “The pizza smells great.”

He was bent over the oven, peering inside, and grunted. “Still got some time. I had my brother pick up a bottle of red wine if you?—”

When he turned and saw me, his words abruptly stopped, but his mouth didn’t close. His dark gaze—now with that almost-constant green spark—raked me from head to toe, and I felt my skin prickle and my bare toes curl in response.

Unfortunately at that moment, I hit a snag in my hair, and I must’ve winced because suddenly he was moving toward me.

“Give it to me,” he commanded, holding out his hand.

In a sort of confused daze, I placed the brush in his palm and turned. Memnon gathered my wet hair in his other hand and gently worked the brush through it, again and again.

I shuddered at the sensation—unexpected pleasure and intimacy all at once. “I…It’s been a long time since anyone did this for me,” I admitted in a whisper.

“When I was little, my mother had long hair. She had many sons, some older than us, some younger. But she used to like it when I brushed her hair.”

The quiet words were accompanied by gentle touches, and I felt my chest tighten. “You must miss her so much.”

“I do.” He tucked the brush away, then gathered my hair in both his hands and divided it. “She died the year before we steppedthrough the veil. That’s the only reason we were willing to join the group.”

His fingers flew, plaiting my hair the way I’d wanted to braid his. I wondered if he’d let me, now that he’d done mine. I couldn’t believe how gentle he was with those claws that seemed to retract whenever he didn’t need them.

My pulse was pounding in my ears, my head swimming from the heady scent ofhim, and my whole body was attuned to him.

I peeled the elastic from my wrist and passed it over my shoulder, and after he tied off the bottom, turned to him. Neither of us backed up, so I ended up staring up at him.

Could he see how much I wanted to touch him? Taste him?

One of his thick fingers rose to rest on my collarbone. “I haven’t seen this yet.”

Ah. The sundress had spaghetti straps, revealing my one and only tattoo. I nodded, then realized it was dumb to agree without speaking, so I blurted, “I got it after my grandfather died.”

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