Page 11 of You Can't Fight Lightning
Back to the campaign.
What would happen after I successfully wooed Roxy? I wanted her, that was certain. I wanted to spend time with her, exploring her naked form, learning her. Learning what she liked, what she wanted.
But what then?
My experience with women, while varied, did not allow for much beyond the seduction, and then for a short time afterward. Usually a very short time.
I felt shame wash through me.
What was this? What in the name of all the hells was this? The women I’d loved—they were lucky to have been loved by me! There was no shame in my past. I shook my head, wanting to send the thoughts of harm into the ether, to anywhere else.
Roxy would be lucky, too, if she could get out of her own way long enough to see her good fortune. I just needed to help her.
But how? Magic was out. It had worked in the past, but over the years, I’d found that magic didn’t have the same bang for the buck it had in what was politely termed ‘ancient times’. Women wanted more, which had forced me to become more careful in how I chose my partners. And now that we were here, in the human realm, we were trying to live more than humans. No more taking the godly way out.
Even with the gods turning over a new leaf, this attraction to Roxy was different. At least, it felt different.
I finished my gimlet and then drank down my water. Picking up all my empties, I went back into the bar. I’d meet this challenge head on and decide on the best tactic from there.
“Hey, honey, where ya going?” I heard the woman who’d been sitting next to me call out.
I waved a hand over my head but didn’t stop.
Inside the bar, it was darker, and cooler. More comfortable. I loved the heat, but this desert was almost too hot. Walking to the bar, I set the glasses down with a distinct rattle.
Roxy stood at the other end of the bar. She looked up at the sound of the glasses. “Oh. You’re back. Ready to settle up?”
Okay. As far as signs went, this was a pretty bad one.
She walked toward me and I felt the breath leave my body. Her hips moved in a gentle sway—gods, she’d look magnificent in a toga—and her stride was strong and confident. This was a woman who made her own way.
I loved strong women. Even women who angered me, argued with me, fought me, made an enemy of me. It was one of the reasons I thought I’d become friends with Nyx. She stood up to me every time we met.
Roxy would go toe to toe with me, too. I could tell.
Just by watching her walk.
And that didn’t even delve into the sheer, overwhelming sensuality of the woman. She was waiting for a man to love her. She was born to be someone’s lover. There was so much of her that wanted to give, to receive.
I had so much to give her.
Yet she had a wall around her that was many layers and well-fortified.
“No. I’d like another glass of water. Maybe a pitcher?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No. Is it obvious?” I let the sparkle come into my eyes, sent my focus to Roxy, so that she’d know there was no one else in the world I’d rather be with right now.
She frowned, her lips twisting a little.
Okay.
“It’s a small town. I know most people’s faces.”
Damn. That fell flat.
How could she resist my sparkle? My focus?
