Page 108 of Leashed

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sage had never been on a road trip with a man before.

Or hellhound, for that matter.

It was eye-opening.

She’d woken up from a deep sleep to find Bo sitting on the edge of the bed, showered and dressed, his long hair dripping and dampening the neckline of a rather blasphemous shirt.

He was practically vibrating with excitement, an open duffel bag at his feet.

“Coffee’s on,” he’d announced without a good morning, nudging a pile of familiar clothes toward her. “Couldn’t get all the bloodstains out of the dress, but we’re hitting the mall in an hour anyway, so we’ll pass it off as spaghetti sauce.”

She’d wrapped herself in his blanket as she stumbled bleary-eyed down the hall to the shower, emerging twenty minutes later feeling a little more alert, if not deliciously sore.

The crinkling of a chip bag ripped her attention back to the highway and she smiled over at him. “You’re going to end up with a stomachache.”

After a brief argument over who would drive, they’d finally settled on her driving Bo’s truck. She was still worried about some of his more stubborn injuries, despite his phenomenal recovery with the aid of the lotions and liquids Dio had secured from the underworld.

The places he’d been pierced by the dragon—something she was still flabbergasted about every time the thought crossed her mind—were no longer bleeding, but were still sensitive enough to make him flinch every time he inadvertently put pressure on them. However, the bruises had all but faded and the broken bones were knitting together at an impressive speed.

Apparently underworld water had regenerative properties, which was why Ryan and Dio had had to re-break his bones once they were topside. They had healed improperly in Lachesis’s pool.

Another strike against the goddess she was certain she’d pop in the nose if they ever met, Fate be damned.

But now, head stealthily tilting toward his open window, Bo seemed content to sit in the passenger side playing DJ, eating, and messing with the settings on his stereo while the wind whipped his hair into a tangled mess.

He tossed a handful of chips into his mouth and shrugged. “If I do get sick, you’ll feel bad for me and give me a belly rub. I can’t lose on this.”

They were four hours into the drive and had already stopped twice for burgers under his insistence that he needed to refuel so he could “properly put the hotel mattress to the test.”

And she really couldn’t argue after the night they’d had.

As it turned out, Greek divinity came with an amazing rebound time.

For a woman who had never had that inner vixen so many women seemed to naturally channel, Bo’s ravenous hunger for her had managed to ramp her modest sex drive into overload. He’d been insatiable, pausing only long enough between bouts to grab them some water or submit to her assessment of his healing injuries.

For medical purposes, of course.

She rolled her neck to ease the tension driving always brought with it, warmth filling her veins when his hand slid onto her shoulders immediately to knead out the knots while he continued to wolf down the last of the snacks.

He hadn’t gone more than ten minutes without some sort of contact with her. He’d held her hand while they cruised through the mall to grab her a replacement wardrobe until she could get her things. He traced circles on her wrist as they sat at the drive-thru window. His foot nudged against hers when they stood in line to pay for gas.

Her mind flashed to last night, to him gripping her hair while he took her from behind, his breath hot against her skin when he informed her he wasn’t letting up until he had her yowling like a cat.

She looked over at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Still pissed about the cat thing, aren’t you?” he asked, tipping the chip bag into his mouth to drain the last of the crumbs and crumpling the bag as he grinned at her. “I gave you fair warning.”

*

Bo tugged atthe top button of his new shirt until the tiny clasp popped off and rolled across the tiled floor of the Byzantium exhibition room. “I should’ve listened to you,” he whispered to Sage, pushing her long hair back so he could plant a quick kiss on her neck.

She shivered and swayed into him despite her rapt attention to the artifacts on display. “Undo the next two so it looks intentional,” she hushed back, swatting his hand away when it accidentally slid down to her ass. Again. “And behave yourself.”

“We good?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

“We’re very, very good.”

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