Page 59 of Unveil
“Let’s see… how do I feel,” I say sarcastically. Trying to focus. I shake my head, but pain screams back, making me grimace andpress my fingers to my temples. “Oh, like someone who survived a maniac, falling off a cliff, and nearly drowning through two waterfalls. How doyoufeel, Orion?”
“Walked into that one.” He sighs. “I feel like shit, Luna. None of this is going how I wanted.”
“And how did you expect your kidnapping to go, exactly?” A whiff of stale dust hits my nostrils, distracting me from my rhetorical question, and my nose wrinkles. “Ew, is this mattress sanitary?”
“As sanitary as we could hope for at the moment. I found fresh sheets in a tub that had layers of dust on the lid. Everything inside was fine. The mattress was covered with plastic too. You know, like the ones old grannies use to protect their couches in between Sunday suppers?”
“Um… not really?”
“Well,” he mumbles, shrugging. “It was like that.”
Then he stands, almost too tall for the low ceiling as he walks over to the stove. The fire flickers over the skeleton ballerina on his ribs, making her dance along his corded muscles. His boxers leave nothing to the imagination, so I snap my gaze away, pretending to study my nails. Unfortunately, there’s not a speck of dirt in them to inspect?—
Wait.
“How am I clean?” I muse. My eyes jerk up and I sing off key with a touch of anger in the tone, “O-ri-on? How the hell am Icle-ean?” I yank his black T-shirt up from my legs and put it on using the jacket as a makeshift curtain. “And I’d like to revisit the whole me-being-naked issue. You have some explaining to do, jerk.”
Orion’s reaches awkwardly for the stove like the grate might open up and eat him whole. I frown as he uses a cloth to deposit two long pieces of tin foil off the flat top to their respective plates.
“I found washcloths and a fresh bar of soap,” he answers. “I didn’t want you to have to sleep with that river dirt on you, and your tutu was practically freezing before I got the fire started.” He scowls. “If you’re worried about me doing anything shitty, I didn’t. I’m a gentleman.”
“A gentleman,” I echo pointing at my sore butt cheek. “You. Shot. Me. In. The.Ass.”
He sighs, likeI’mthe unreasonable one.
The nerve.
“Would a non-gentleman offer you dinner?”
As he peels back the tin foil, my nostrils flare at the scent of steamed fish stuffed with rosemary, thyme, and other herbs that he must’ve gathered from the bundles hanging in the rafters. I wince as I slide off the cot, drawn to the plate like a cartoon character to a pie steaming in a windowsill.
“Careful now,” his low voice raises goosebumps on my skin. “Caught the trout this morning. Found a line and hook in another crate.”
When I look up, heat reflects in his eyes as he watches me crawl toward him. I glance down to see the neckline hanging low. He can’t see much, but I take delight that the bulge growing in his boxer briefs is thanks to me, and evenmoredelight knowing he’s not getting so much as a tug to relieve the pressure in that huge cock that I’m dying to have in my?—
Jesus. Get it together, bitch.
I sit up, careful of my probably sprained ankle, and my eyes flick between him and the fish.
“What if there are spiderwebs in the herbs?”
He rolls his eyes. “There aren’t. I checked first, then smoked them for good measure. Here. Eat. You’re hungry.”
My stomach growls, making any objection seem even pettier than I already have been. I take the plate and sit while he sets his near the cot, farther from the stove.
“Yeah, becausesomeonekidnapped me two days ago and didn’t even have the decency to give me so much as a protein bar.”
“Come here.” He ignores me, nodding to the space beside him. “Sit with me.”
I pretend to think. “Hmm. No.”
He doesn’t even warn me before scooping me up in a flash. I yelp, but he just as quickly deposits me gently on the ground, well away from the stove.
“What the hell?”
“You were too close to the fire,” he grumbles, setting my plate by his before plopping down across from me.
“Wow, dramatic? I wasn’t even that close.” My eyes narrow to slits at the over-the-top male until he circles back to my earlier argument.
