Page 89 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"You can just say I killed one man, highly likely I killed a second, and would have killed the third if I had the chance. All done without mercy or hesitation. Just call me a killer, Ambrose. It'll save us a lot of trouble. That and tact looks weird on you."

He gave my ass another slap, scowling. "And if you weren't willin' to kill, neither of ya would be here. I ain't exactly got clean hands. You ever killed someone who didn't deserve it?"

"Uh...directly?"

"Um, yes?"

"No. Indirectly or to my knowledge?"

"Um."

"That I don't know."

He sighed. “Samuel."

I was pushing him too far if he was getting tired rather than exasperated, and I gave him a pained smile. “Look, I just...I'm not used to this sort of conversation, okay? I appreciate it. I really,reallydo. But I'm trying not to bolt for the nearest door and head for the hills."

"Bein' dragged here, kept here, and put under my watch for who knows how long wasn't enough to make ya wanna book it, but...me bein' nice is?"

"Err...sort of."

"What happened to being honest?"

I groaned. “Fine, if I say what I'm thinking, can we move on from the subject and not talk about it for a while so I don’t feel like I'm going to explode?"

"Sure."

"It's not that you're being nice. It's realizing that I'm probably falling for you with each passing day and getting closer to being in love, and now the realization that you sound like you're about there yourself." His eyes widened to an almost comic level, mouth opening and then snapping shut with an audible click. I gave him a pained smile. “Hey, you said we could change the subject."

"That’s...well," he said, clearing his throat, "somethin' to...think over."

"And you didn't deny it, which tells me plenty," I said with a sigh.

"I do have one more thing to say, though," he said with a grin.

"God in Heaven, what?"

He leaned closer, gripping my ass in his roughened hand. “Your assisamazing. Gift from God."

Which was a blatantly transparent way of changing the subject, but its genuineness wasn't in question because I had a full view of his body and could see Not So Little Ambrose stirring to life as his fingers traced my ass. I raised a brow. “So, are you trying to use a heartfelt conversation about your thankfulness for what I did, and us more or less admitting this is more than sex as your way of...getting more sex?"

He screwed his face up thoughtfully. “Depends."

"On what? If it's working?"

"Is it?"

"What can I say? I'm a weak man, and though I know giving in will result in my ass being as sore as my back tomorrow, I cannot deny that having you pin me face down on the bed and letting you have your way with me is appealing."

He twisted, one hand closing around my upper arm. "Hmm, if I do it like this and don't touch your wound?—"

"You can have your way with me."

"Mmm," he said, which was probably meant to be a hum of agreement, but as always when he was aroused, his noises became deep and guttural.

Later, once we’d gained a new layer of sweat, he’d deepened the ache in my ass but left it feeling warm and pleasant. I lay beside him, listening to him snore like he was sawing a log. I snorted when Bear began synchronizing the same noise from the floor, and I stared into Ambrose’s peaceful face, arm thrown over his head, and allowed myself to ignore the discomfort from before to let myself bask in the warmth hiding beneath it.

I had long since suspected that being here had been a blessing in a cleverly made disguise, but he...well, Ambrose was something I definitely hadn't expected. It wasn't even the happiness or pleasure of being with him. I had felt that before. It was the sense of peace that pervaded every interaction whenever we were alone. How I had managed to find peace around someone else was a mystery, but it was novel and wonderful.

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