Page 32 of Liar & Champion
Dang. Even with the marriage requirement, he wasn’t running away, and he felt better than morphine. He deserved so much better. I’d make sure he got it after I was dead and buried. He’d probably give me a really nice funeral. I should send all the details to Beastie so he could forward them to Nix once I’d kicked it. I didn’t need to burden him with that now.
Chapter Eleven
LIAR
The next morning, Nix woke me up with a kiss of my cheek and an announcement.
“I bought, get this, biodegradable shampoo. I love the look of unwashed hair on a woman, but I sacrificed because you might appreciate being clean, even more.” Why did he look so delighted by his shampoo buying? No idea, but it was adorable.
“I appreciate the sacrifice. You know, religion is all about sacrifice.” I trailed my hands over his shoulders and down his brawny arms.
His sweet smile turned into something smoldering that sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted more kissing. More sweetness that melted me like butter in the sun. No pain, just absolute delight. He was so magical, because nothing he did hurt me. I really could do something crazy like get married to him for six months, or until I dropped dead. I stretched and kicked the sleeping bag down, rolling out of bed and landing on my feet perfectly. It was a good day. I was on. I’d slept incredibly well, feeling safe and warm, snug as a bug in my sleeping bag above Nix.
He smiled at me, and gave me the plastic bag. “Soap, wash cloths, razors, shampoo and conditioner, and breakfast bars, the all-natural fruit and nut kind. How long should we stay here? We should solidify the plan’s details.”
I held my plastic bag tightly and felt very delighted, even though I did have travel size stuff in my bag. He’d gotten huge shampoo and conditioner that would take me six months to use up if I washed my hair twice a day. That was so perfect for the plan. “We should stay here until your arm feels better. I should have gone to the store while you rested. I didn’t get shot.”
“But you were hurt, and this way I can earn your kisses.” He wiggled his brows in a ridiculous way that made me laugh although his eyes were smoldering. So hot. A hot sun to melt me.
I cocked my head and tugged on his shirt’s hem. I loved connecting to him, even if I wasn’t touching him. “Ah, but how am I going to earn your kisses?”
He rubbed his chin and seriously considered the question. “I think that you’ll have to…fluff my pillow. It’s tough work, but someone’s got to do the domestic stuff, and I’m way too manly to fluff my own pillow.”
I reached over and shook out his pillow. “That was hard. I earned at least a dozen kisses for that.”
“At least.” He stepped into me and brushed my nose with his. “A dozen kisses, hm? Ah, Kitten, I can’t start kissing you before you’ve eaten breakfast.” He slid his hands up and down my back, sending a tingling awareness through me that made me lean against him, soaking in the feel of him, so strong but so gentle. He was seriously the most talented man in the world.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to kiss you.” I reached up and brought his face down for a quick kiss, but it wasn’t quick, not at all. After a deliciously long moment finding his sweetness, he picked me up, still kissing me, and started walking.
I laughed, but he was still kissing me. He tasted so delicious that I sighed and forgot about where we were going, instead just tasted him, until a spray of water came on over my head and I blinked away from him, gasping. Talk about a shock.
We were in the cement shower, not remotely romantic, but he lowered me and then blocked the spray with his own head.
“It’s impossible to stand up straight in this shower, but it does put me at the level of your lips, so I suppose it’s a design perk rather than a flaw.” He brushed my lips with his, and with water sliding all over everything, the world really was blurry.
Oh. We were showering together? Was that okay? He hadn’t hurt me yet. I kissed him tentatively and slid my fingers into his wet hair. He kissed me until he’d nudged me against the wall. How I could not feel pain with cement against my back, I had no idea, but I didn’t. He kissed me while he gently washed my hair, slow and steady until he pulled us back under the spray and washed the shampoo out. He was so coordinated. And so stunningly handsome, too powerful to be pretty, but he made up for that in his easy sensuality. He touched me like he was totally used to washing invalids, only sexy, because washing invalids wasn’t sexy. Ever. Except when he did it. He was clearly supernatural.
Once my hair was washed, he broke away long enough to retrieve the conditioner bottle from the place on the floor where everything had spilled out of the plastic bag.
I ran a shaky hand through my hair and then once he was back in distance, I grabbed the front of his soaked shirt and pulled him back to me. He tasted so good, and I wanted to taste more of him, particularly his tongue, which I hadn’t had yet. I pressed my lips to his and then licked his mouth, nudging his lips apart until I tasted that soft, sweet, delicious part of him, licking his tongue probably all weird, because this was a cutting edge new experience for me. I was half worried that he’d pullaway in shock or disgust or amusement, but instead, his hands were on me, lifting me up while he leaned me against the wall, and his tongue did delicious tricks on my mouth that made breath catch and everything else negligible. I needed his tongue, needed the steady pressure of his chest against mine, however fast it made my heart race.
He tasted so good and felt even better. I wrapped my legs around him and he smoothed a strong hand over my skin before squeezing my hip just the right amount of pressure. I licked him back, dancing with his tongue while his hands slid over me until he found the bare skin of my sides, and I realized that he’d pushed up my shirt. I tugged on his, but my hands weren’t gripping quite right.
He tasted so good and felt so good, and when he pulled away long enough to kiss my neck, I tugged frantically on his shirt, lost grip on the fabric and ended up thudding his chest.
He pulled away, pupils dilated, lips parted, so soft and soaked, but then he blinked, and the sweetness was replaced by something else. He carefully put me down and backed to the opposite side of the shower, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry that I let things get out of hand.” With that, he left the cement shower, closing the door behind him.
I stayed there blinking with my shirt around my armpits while I shuddered and then convulsed. Oh. I’d forgotten to stab myself in the leg today. It was probably a good thing that he’d taken one look at my chest and run off. I looked down at my yellow bra and the moderate cleavage that showed. It wasn’t too bad, was it? Not perfection, but most men didn’t seem to be that particular. Michael certainly wasn’t.
I went to the door and locked it then stripped down and started washing my clothing with shampoo, fighting with the rising humiliation and depression. He’d finally seen sense andrun away. I could also see sense, like washing everything since it was already all wet. Also shelving this stupid scheme, because no way marriage would work for me with someone else who didn’t know I was sick. How long could I hide that from him? He deserved someone normal, someone he could actually fall in love with and have beautiful babies that I’d always wanted even more than I wanted a puppy.
I made as quick a job as I could, but my hands were trembling and I kept dropping things. What had happened with Nix? Had my tongue been too creepy? I licked my arm, and yeah, it was pretty weird. I wrapped myself in the towel that Nix must have brought with us to the shower while he’d been carrying me and kissing me. The man could multi-task.
I sighed as I walked barefoot over soft needles, getting my feet dirty and sticky with pitch. I’d been enjoying this foray into physical contact that didn’t hurt, but he’d be better off with someone who wasn’t dying. Obviously.
When I got to the cabin, I dressed in one of his big t-shirts, because it smelled like him and I wanted to. If he was on his way out, I’d keep a t-shirt as a memento.
I got out my box of meds and held up the needle. “Ah, my old friend. You’ll never leave me even if I get weird with my tongue.”
