Page 82 of Inarticulate

She prepared to question him, had the syllables on the tip of her tongue, and paused. She didn’t want to tamper with their moment. She didn’t want to spoil the silence and become like every other woman he’d been with.

A devilish grin of understanding was her reward. He did the action again, slower, indicating his face in an intricate pattern.

This time she understood when his lips parted. This time she knew what he was telling her, not from the word he mouthed for a second time, or the sign language, but from the look in his eyes. The gaze that told her exactly what his fingers had tried to announce.

Beautiful.He thought she was beautiful.

She sank her head into the pillow, trying to hide the way her cheeks flamed in a celebration of vanity. His touch tickled her neck, below her ear, then his grip was on her chin, gently guiding her vision back to his.

This time he raised both hands, fingers clenched, thumbs up and wove them in a mimicked movement like an hourglass. That sign was universal, probably used since the dawn of time.

Sexy.He thought she was sexy.

She chuckled and shook her head in admonishment. The least he could do was teach her something that might further their communication. Maybe how-are-you, or yes-your-butt-does-look-good-in-those-pants.

His lips quirked and his right hand flickered in a mass of movement. Not just one sign, but a mass of different gestures one after the other.

Her frown must’ve said it all. She was clueless.

He slid down the bed, his descent lithe yet controlled as he rolled on top of her, his weight sinking into the needy parts of her body. She feigned ignorance even though she had a crystal clear idea of what he was implying from the erection he ground against her pubic bone.

He leaned to one side, resting his elbow beside her upper arm and signed again.

She shrugged, hoping her feigned lack of intellect would lead to more of his heavenly teaching.

He smirked at her, formed a circle with his thumb and index finger and then used the index finger of his other hand to penetrate the circle in a lascivious simulation of sex.

Her bark of laughter enveloped the room, accompanied by his soundless chuckle that vibrated against her chest. They stared at each other, reading thoughts and finding secrets for breathless moments.

“Have you always been silent?”

Bliss left the room in a vacuum. He broke eye contact, his emotions masked by a lack of expression as he made to roll off her.

“Don’t.” She grabbed his arms and kept him close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Not yet. Not in this moment.

“What time is it?” She was seconds from caving, mere beats of her pulse away from letting him know he’d won her heart as well as her body. Her tongue worked around the declaration, her lips were starved of the words to assure him his silence was inconsequential, only she wasn’t ready to concede defeat just yet.

He leaned to the side, grasped his cell from the bedside table and flashed the screen her way. The move was probably made to show her the time, yet all she could see were three missed calls from Penelope Augustine.

“I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you.”

His morning lethargy morphed into an annoyed glare as he cleared the notifications.

“Why would she be calling?” The need for answers wasn’t inspired by jealousy. Not entirely. It was based more on confusion over why her cousin was trying to hold a one-sided conversation instead of communication via text or email.

He typed and flashed her the screen again.Thanksgiving lunch.

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot.” She tried to move, to sit up, but he wouldn’t budge from his position between her legs. “How long until you have to leave?”

He grinned and tapped at the time stamp on his cell—1:38pm

“You missed lunch?” She shoved harder this time, working her arms and knees to make him roll back to his side of the bed. “How the hell did I sleep that long?” She sat up and flung back the covers. “I have to get back to the hotel.”

She needed to call her mother. Spencer, too. Her ex would demand answers to her whereabouts. Answers she wasn’t willing to give, but would need to respond to.

Keenan relaxed onto his side and levered his free hand under his head. “Why?” His eyes narrowed, announcing he knew exactly why she was worried.

“I should make sure the wedding finished without a hitch.”

---