Page 98 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Mmm… the coat smells like him.
“Are we going somewhere?” I whisper. I meant to say that louder.
“Yes,” he whispers huskily.
We’re face-to-face, staring into each other’s eyes. I have no idea where he’s planning to take me. I think there’s food involved, but judging by the connective energy surging through us, I wonder if food is the last thing on his mind.
Take me, Hercules. Throw me on your couch and do whatever you want to me. I am yours.
He takes a step back. “Follow me.”
My feet feel as if they’re off the ground as I follow him to shiny metals doors, which slide open when he gets close.An elevator. Yikes.
Hercules steps aside to let me enter first. “I promise, no repeat of last night.”
I walk into the elevator, trying to figure out what he meant by his last comment.Does he regret what happened between us last night? No way.I’ve been catching his vibes from the moment I entered his office. He hung Lake’s painting on his wall. He likes me.
No, he likes Lark.
I try to think about something else so I don’t feel sad about conning Hercules into thinking I’m somebody else. “So,” I say at the same time he is starting to speak.
“I’m sorry. You go first,” I say.
“No, you. I insist.”
“But I’ve already forgotten,” I reply absentmindedly. I close my eyes and shake my head. I can’t believe I said that.
“Are you always this hard on yourself?” Hercules asks.
I frown. “Why do you ask that?”
“You’re beating yourself up over not remembering what you were going to say. It's okay. You make me nervous too. I might be better at hiding it.” He chuckles.
“I make you nervous?” I'm certainly fishing. I want to hear him confirm it.
His lustful gaze leaves me temporarily breathless. I want a repeat performance of last night, but I’m trying to remain professional.
“Yes,” he whispers throatily.
His energy washes over me, and when I blink, my eyelids flutter. I want to apologize for this moment of uncontrollable lust, but his last comment about me being hard on myself still haunts me. I am hard on myself. Mostly, I feel as if Heartly and Xander’s perfectly little girl remains unblemished in their hearts and minds if she never defies them or makes mistakes.
My gaze is becoming more focused as I turn and concentrate on Hercules’s mouth. Kissing him was like the best kind of drug. I want more. Heartly and Xander’s daughter wants to make out feverishly with the enemy.
“Do you like hot dogs?” he asks.
“Hot dogs?”
The doors are open, and he’s watching me with his customary amused smirk that I find so sexy.
Kiss him, Paisley. Just do it.
I can't stop my feet. I exit the elevator, leaving another missed opportunity in my wake.
We walk outthrough a lobby made of glass and into a perfectly manicured private park that’s encased between walls of skyscrapers. I’ve said yes to hot dogs, but I’m still not fully present as I kick myself for not being bolder. Being fearful is exactly how I missed my opportunity with Hercules many moons ago. So far, our conversation has been pretty surfacy. I remarked on how the afternoon had warmed some. I even offered to give him his coat back. But Hercules refused. That made me happy. I love being wrapped up in his scent. The thought that I’m wearing something that belongs to him is still turning me on.
We smile warmly at each other before he uses his keycard to open a gate. Being by Hercules’s side feels natural, as usual. It’s hard to admit that we were possibly made for each other—especially since neither of us could ever take the other home for dinner without causing a ruckus.
“Thank you,” I say before I step onto a nearly empty sidewalk in an alley.
