Page 16 of Undo Me

Blue Eyes leapt off the bed to kneel beside him, the concern in her expression slightly gratifying.

Slightly.

He smiled through gritted teeth. “Are you always so gentle with your lovers?

She flipped her long, raven-colored braid over her shoulder and pursed her lips.

Speaking of adorable.

“If you were my lover, I might be gentle.”

“Might is an intriguing word.”

“I’m great at gentle,” she corrected with a glare. “Unless, I’m being physically accosted by a Loa-turned-human with a penchant for canoodling with anything that moves.”

His bark of laughter surprised him, along with her wit. “Canoodling? I’ve read the word, but I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use that term in relation to me. They prefer to say pleasured, satisfied, fucked into oblivion. Shall I go on?”

“So humble. How can I possibly resist you?” She tilted her head, as if deep in thought before snapping her fingers. “Got it. I’ll think about your years with Rousseau, Allegra’s detailed book, a few stories Michelle’s mother told me, my—”

“Enough.” She was making his head throb, but sadly, it was the wrong one. “How did I get here? I can’t remember.”

She got to her feet, crossing her arms over her lovely breasts as she stared him down. It was clear she was trying to pretend indifference, but her pale skin blushed easily, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off his body.

All good signs.

“You copped a feel and I tossed you on your ass.”

“I mean here. To Ben’s mausoleum.”

“He carried you.” She stared at him, her expression softening. “You should get back in bed.”

“Only if you join me, cher.”

Her expression wasn’t amused. Tempted. But not amused. He started to stand up and cringed, more than he needed to, he admitted to himself, but it did hurt. Had he gotten a bad body instead of his original model? It was already mid-morning and he wasn’t recovered from his change yet. He didn’t have time for all this lying about.

He cringed again without pretense. “Damn it all.”

Small, strong arms wrapped around his waist as Blue Eyes helped him back to bed.

She liked him a little. He could tell.

When he was sitting up, the sheet once more safely draped across his persistent erection, he held out his hand. “Obviously, you’ve heard of me, but since we’ve yet to be formally introduced, you can call me BD. And what can I call you, Blue Eyes?”

“Bethany.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She smirked at him, unimpressed, and his brow furrowed. What was wrong with her? He’d been vulnerable, which should have engendered her tender heart. He’d been dominant and impulsive, which normally led to submission. Now he was playing the gallant and she seemed more distant than ever. Did nothing work on her?

If you were still Loa, you’d already have her. This body is definitely faulty. Or maybe…

“Do you like men, Bethany?”

“That’s hysterical. Tell me, the last time you were alive—before you got the golden ticket to Loa-ville—did you live in a cave? A dark, lonely man cave where all women who weren’t interested in you were probably gay?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Her laughter stung his pride again, but at least she wasn’t leaving. She relaxed into the chair beside him, pretending to read her book and giving him time to study her. Did she think he lied about her beauty?

He’d admit, it was subtle. Almost purposely so, as though she worked to hide it. She wore no makeup, her hair was pulled back in a simple braid, and an oversized T-shirt concealed her figure. But she couldn’t hide the intelligence in her eyes, or that full, sensual upper lip. He wanted to suck it into his mouth. Merde, he hoped she gave in soon. She did say he was pretty.

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