Page 19 of Hot Blooded
“Do they have the new MX 360 there?” I ask, hoping to change the topic. I fiddle with my smartphone, though to be honest, I’m not even sure why I brought the damn thing.
“I have no idea,” Alastair concedes, accelerating downhill on the bendy mountain road. “They have a Lamborghini Aventador, though to be honest, I don’t want to talk cars…”Surprise, surprise. Here it comes…
“I’d much rather talk about that fine-as-fuck human you’re keeping all to yourself.” His mouth lifts in a lazy smile. I bristle, my posture stiff. “Oh relax, Reign.” He rolls his eyes from behind dark sunglasses.
“Screw you,” I mutter, shoving the phone into the pocket of my trousers.
“What do you need, a hand job and a nap?” His words are followed by a low chuckle.
Actually… now that you mention it. The idea of Tressa’s soft, warm hands moving over my hard, steely flesh…
Alastair bursts my little fantasy before it really has a chance to form. “Any romantic entanglements you might be imagining would never work. You realize that right?”
I make an undistinguishable sound. I’m not discussing this with him. Not now. Not ever.
Alastair is undeterred. “If you fucked her, you’d probably kill her.”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?”
I wouldn’t though. I would see to it.
“It’s a nice thought though… to fuck and feed. Maybe she has a sister.” Alastair smirks.
My jaw clenches and I hope he doesn’t notice. I’ll never tell him he’s right. Not that it will matter. My brother is completely vain, and the way Tressa tells it, her sister won’t be his type. Even if she is, Alastair dating a human won’t work. I’m the one with the self-control, and look how badly that turned out for me…
I shake my head. “Trust me, brother, you couldn’t handle it. You can barely control yourself doing just one of those activities at a time.”
Alastair scoffs, but doesn’t argue more, because we both know what happened last time one of us did that.
Chapter 11
Tressa
In an effort to fill some of my free time, I inquired with Mrs. Potts about whether I could plant a garden. She was enthusiastic about the idea and insisted that Reign wouldn’t mind in the least.
Which is why today I’m dressed in an old pair of jeans, a t-shirt that I don’t mind getting dirty, and have gathered my hair into a ponytail.
Mrs. Potts arranges for everything—fertilizer, potting soil, a trowel, and a shovel, along with a delivery of three-gallon rosebushes in the most beautiful shades of pink and magenta. It’s all waiting for me in the front circular driveway.
I greet the roses with a smile. “Hello, pretties.” I shade my face with my hand as I gaze out at my project. It will take some work, that’s for sure.
The long-neglected flower beds in the front hold half-dead unrecognizable plants and a couple of well-placed granite boulders. The roses will look incredible nestled in beside the boulders.
I get to work removing the old plants, humming to myself as I work. I haven’t seen Reign today. He went out with his brother yesterday and didn’t return until late. I’ve been filled with curiosity about what it is that he does in his free time. I can only imagine the types of extra-curricular activities that two sinfully gorgeous men must get into.
Part of me still can’t believe I’d told Reign about my sister Libby. I even told him about my mother and how she stopped speaking to me shortly after the fire.
It had been difficult to get the words out, but after, it was like the chains around my sad heart loosened, and for the first time I’d felt free. Which makes absolutely no sense, I know that. Instinctually I do, but I can’t help what I feel. And I feel so very many things when Reign is near. Excitement. Lust. Fear. Consumed with need.
And maybe that’s what I like best. When I’m near him every sad memory is banished away, burned away by the fire I feel inside me. There’s onlyhimand my raging curiosity, and truckloads of desire.
This little gardening project is the perfect thing to distract me.
Clearing away some of the overgrowth, I discover a statue of an angel buried beneath the tangled weeds. It’s a strange thing for Reign to have. I lift it from the spot where it’s resting on its side. Does he even know it’s here?
It has to weigh at least twenty pounds. I straighten it and try to imagine Reign picking this out and placing it here. It doesn’t really make sense. Then again, I don’t know him very well. A fallen angel.Literally. Its halo is a little chipped, but otherwise, she’s in good shape. Her chubby arms are wrapped around herself, and her eyes are closed. I admire the garden statue for a minute more, and wipe some dirt from her folded wings.
Once I have the dead plants removed, I dig up the earth and make room for the roses. I’m most of the way through when I hear footsteps approach.
