Primals (Reverse Harem 1)

My eyes narrow. “You think?”

“Totally. It’ll make you look hotter.”

My eyebrows go up for a second time. If I keep this up they’ll get lost up there and not come down again. Hotter?

She turns away. “But if you don’t like it, I can keep looking. I’m sure...”

I grab the sweater from her. “I’ll take it. If it fits, that is.”

The corners of her lips turn up into a rewarding smile that convinces me I’ve made the right choice.

“Let’s hope it does.”

IT DID SEEM A GOOD choice back then but now, sitting in the living room of my apartment, I’m no longer sure it is.

I can sense Clarissa’s eyes wandering restlessly, constantly over my new sweater, though I get the feeling it’s not just my sweater she’s seeing. The fact that we don’t have anything else to occupy us doesn’t help.

“Maybe we should have bought a book for you to read,” I suggest. I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t spend a lot of time in the apartment. It’s a place to stay when I’m not at sea.

“It’s fine.” Clarissa shakes her head. “There’s nothing particular I’ve been wanting to read.”

“What do you do during your spare time?” I ask her.

“Watch TV mostly.” She sits back in her chair. “Or use my computer.”

I wince. I’m not big into electronics. “I’m sorry I don’t have either.”

She waves her hand. “Please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault you don’t rely on technology to keep you amused. It’s admirable, actually.” She shifts her legs. “So, what do you do during your spare time?”

“I sleep or eat.”

She chuckles. “I think I already guessed that. Any other...hobbies?”

I glance at the totem on the window sill. “Whittling.”

“Oh, yeah. I noticed.”

Clarissa stands up, picking up the totem. “Maybe you can teach me how to do it, then?”

I nod. It’s not like we have anything better to do. Besides, she needs a distraction, as do I.

I get my tools and sit on the rug. Clarissa sits across from me.

“So, what do I do first?”

I hand her a chunk of basswood. “First, think about what you want to make.”

“Hmm.” She scratches her chin. “Maybe something simple, like a leaf.”

“Okay.” I hand her one of my pocket knives. “Careful. These knives are very sharp. They have to be so that cutting will be easier and safer.”

“Got it.” She holds the wood in one hand, the knife in the other.

I grab mine and start cutting, making several thin slices along the surface of the wood. She does the same.

“This is like peeling a cucumber,” she says.

I hold a finger to my lips. “Concentrate.”