Page 45 of Heston
“Not good enough, Contreras,” she bit out, moving her mug from her knee to the coffee table with a sloshy thump. “Is that why you didn’t go all the way with me back there? Is that why you stayed dressed while it was okay to get me naked and finger me? Why you wouldn’t let me love you back?”
“No,” he exclaimed, shocked she’d even think that. “Hell, no. But it’s been a long time, and I couldn’t resist, and I—”
“And once again, you thought you knew better than me, right?” London said that with a cocky shoulder swagger that sent out a loud and clear,‘Danger, Will Robinson!’
He dragged a hand over his head. “I can’t win, can I? I didn’t have a condom, and I didn’t allow myself to fuck you because I wanted to make love with you, London. Make love, understand? I wanted to make love to the only woman I’ve ever loved, not screw you on a hard table like a one-and-done. Would it have been fun? Maybe. But the first time I sink into your beautiful body again, I want you to be comfortable and somewhere safe and—”
London jumped to her feet, huffing through her nostrils like a bull in a china shop. “That’s not love, Hes. That’s chicken shit and you know it.”
He’d screwed this up and now she was pissed.
“What’s so wrong about both of us being strong, huh? Can’t you handle me being a smart, capable woman and making my own decisions? Is that it? Does one of us have to be weak before this thing between us works?”
Lifting off the couch, he took a strong step into her. “Is that what you want, London? Is that what’ll work for you, us being an even match?”
Her brows slammed together. “There’s nothing even about us, Hes. Look at you.” She waved her hand, flipping all five fingers at him. “You’re sexy and handsome as sin, and you’re stronger than me. Hell, you’re stronger than most guys I know. You’re Superman to my Lois Lane, only my Lois Lane is more like—”
“Wonder Woman,” he breathed, finally understanding the difference between them through her eyes. London wanted strong because she was strong. Not naïve. Not inexperienced. She’d learned her lessons the hard way, by failing and getting up again, by fighting for the right to be what and who she already was. Strong and perfect.
“No, I was going to say like wimpy What’s-Her-Name in that“Avengers”movie,” she snapped.
“You mean Scarlett Johansson? But you’re precisely like her.”
London dismissed his comment with another dismissive wave of her hand. “Not her. The other one, Tony Stark’s wife. That blonde. Wait a minute.” Her head jutted back a notch on her spine. “You think I’m like Scarlett?”
Finally, she was getting it. “I sure do. Look at you. You’re beautiful and you’re stronger than most men I know. You know what you want, and you go after your dreams. Only…” He took another step toward London. “You’re hotter and smarter than Scarlett.”
She shook her head, sending those long turquoise bangs tumbling into her eyes. “Really? Me? I guess I am kind of strong. I do work out, and I like a good run every morning. But I’m no good at hand-to-hand fighting.” She tapped the side of her head. “Two strikes, remember? I’m not even up for even matches. I’ll always lose.”
Heston took another step into her. This conversation was all over the place, and he wasn’t sure she was hearing what he’d meant at all. His voice sounded weak and whiney, and he wasn’t portraying himself as the strong personality he truly was. How could he turn this around? He needed to understand her better. Might as well jump into the fire.
“Are you planning on leaving the first time we disagree, argue, or fight?”
She cocked her head, her eyes bright and as belligerent as ever. “No, Hes. I’d really like to stay if you’ll let me. We’ve got things to figure out, I get that. And yeah, I realize we’ll still argue. That’s what people who love each other do. We’ve both changed these past few years. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, starting with the night I took off and left you.” She swiped a hand over her head, tossing those jewel-toned locks away and making sure they’d fall back over her eyes as she did. “But I’m here now,and you’re here, and I don’t like it when you decide who gets to keep their clothes on and… and I never stopped loving you, damn it.”
Her bottom lip trembled.
Heston took that final step, took a firm hold of her hips and, hopefully, the situation. “There hasn’t been anyone since you. Promise. We were always good together.”
London draped her hands over his shoulders and ran her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair with a sultry, “Aww.”
He closed his eyes, time-warping back to the days when one touch of her hand was all it took to get him hard.
“And we can be better, Hes. Both of us, individuallyandas a team. A team of two. Our team.”
He liked the way that sounded. “Stay?” he asked, so damned smitten with this amazing woman that he felt like a fool. A fool in love with a woman with wings. Wings he meant to protect and guard the rest of his life. If she wanted to fly, by hell, he’d make sure she could soar as high and go as far as she wanted.
Her lips slammed together in a pout. “Of course, I’ll stay. Think you can get me an interview with that Mark Houston fellow?”
Heston shook his head, charmed to his socks. “Baby, I’ll get you anything your heart desires. Mark will be thrilled to talk with you.”
With that, negotiations were over. He grabbed her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. “This is me being a caveman,” he told her, in case she had other plans. “Want me to stop?”
“No! Don’t ever!” she squealed even as she ran her hands over his ass and down his thighs. “Is this where you give me a tour of the house?”
He landed a playful smack on her rump. “No, baby, this is me dragging you off to my cave and thumping my chest all night long while I fuck your brains out.”
“Aww. You’re such a romantic. But I wanted to—”
