“Don’t be pedantic, Charity,” he chastised without heat. “You know what I mean. I admit that at first, I did consider you an intriguing mystery that had to be solved. It was that fucking power outage. I was bored out of my mind. You and Stormy were the only diversions around. And she sleeps eighteen hours a day. But after that night at the pool…things changed. I was still interested but on a more, shall we say, personal level.”
“You wanted to shag me you mean?”
“So bloody desperately. I mean, there was sexual interest before that. But mere twinges compared to how much I wanted you after that night.”
“This is a lot of baggage to tolerate for a little nookie,” she pointed out acerbically, and he gave her a lazy smile.
“While I may feel like a perpetually horny teenage boy around you, Charity, I am not an adolescent. And I do have a modicum of hard-earned control over my hormones and base desires. Look, what I’m trying to say is that there’s no one else here for us right now. So why don’t we each be what the other needs us to be.”
“And what do you need me to be?” she asked in frustrated confusion. “A sexual partner?”
“No. Not because I don’t want it but because it’s probably not what you need right now. And that means it’s off the table.”
“So, what do you think I need right now?”
“The same thing I need…A friend.”
A friend? How…novel. And yet the notion of having someone in her corner, someone to confide in, spend time and laugh with, after so many years alone was incredibly appealing.
“And you can switch off the sexual thing? Just like that? Why would you even want to? What if I don’t want you to?”
“I can’t switch it off. I’m not. It’s on the back burner for now. It’ll happen or not. Either way, I’d like for us to be friends. In fact, I do believe we’re well on our way to establishing a friendship already.”
“I really liked what we did earlier though. In your room.”
He groaned before slanting her a heated look. “I did too.”
“I like the idea of having a friend, Miles. But I like the idea of having a lover just as much.”
She watched his throat move as he swallowed.
“I do too.”
“Blaine took so many decisions from me. How I should dress, who I should speak with, where I could go…when, where, how we had sex. It’s been so long since I had a choice. And right now, I need a friend…but I would also like a lover.”
“You can have both, Charity. I just don’t think we have to rush into anything.”
“What about friends with PG-13 benefits?”
He placed his hand, palm up, on the coffee table between them. She smiled, and without hesitation, put her hand in his. His fingers curled around hers.
“You mean some handholding, closed mouth kisses, and hot fumbling through our clothes? Count me in. I’m awkward as hell anyway. This would be right in my wheelhouse.”
She laughed at his words and squeezed his hand, before impulsively telling him, “I really, really like you Mr. Hollingsworth.”
“Well, hell, Mrs. Cole…the feeling is entirely mutual. Now come over here and give me a friendly cuddle.” He tugged her to his side of the table, and she happily burrowed under his arm and snuggled against his side.
“Tell me what happened when Willow Cedarian took Delonix to the Fire Maester for his Draegus Fleshing Day,” she invited, and his chest rumbled when he chuckled.
“Don’t get me started,” he warned. “You know what happened the last time I talked about this stuff.”
“I like listening.”
“You can borrow my audiobooks,” he offered magnanimously, and she smiled before lifting her head to look at him.
“I like listening to you, Miles.”
He flushed and cleared his throat before nodding. He leaned back against the sofa and started to talk.
Charity nestled closer, loving the hardness of his body against hers and how the wonderful scent of his cologne blended with his natural musk. She soon lost herself in the gentle cadence of his gruff voice, unable to remember the last time she had felt safer or more content.
His voice had gone hoarse by the time he realized that she had fallen asleep. Miles would have been offended, if not for the fact that he had been speaking for nearly half an hour before she had gone quiet. She had kept him talking with interested questions, clearly paying attention to the story. Her undivided attention had been gratifying. Aside from business, where people had to hang onto his every word, he couldn’t remember anyone being so genuinely interested in anything he had to say before. Because of his wealth and influence, the more sycophantic people who tried to befriend him, or curry favor with him, merely pretended interest in his conversation and opinions. But Miles always knew when someone was stringing him along for a potential payday. And since that was just about everybody he met, it made it easy for him to keep everyone, other than his family and a few close friends, at a distance.