Savage didn’t like later when now would do, but he could live with it.

Savage and Seychelle spent yet another entire day lounging in the house. Savage didn’t want Seychelle to do much of anything but heal. An entire week had gone by since the run, and there wasn’t a mark left on her body but that one faint stripe across her bottom—and it was faint. While the stripes were fresh, he’d used the time to make love to her as often as possible. He hadn’t had to get rough. He could be playful or loving; he could take his time, treat her the way she deserved. He wanted her to have everything good he could possibly give her, because she was going to have as bad as it could get very soon. She would need this to hold on to in order to get her through.

After he fed her dinner, she wanted to go to her cottage in Sea Haven. They hadn’t been there since they’d returned, and she wanted to spend the night there. He found he did as well. He liked that bed of hers and the way they were able to talk so openly together. There was just something about the intimacy of the way they could lie together and play their question game that he loved. She did too. It never felt like prying when they were in her bed.

Savage thought it was because the room was small and held an intimate warmth. She made him feel cherished and accepted when she put her hands on him, massaging his scalp and neck with unexpectedly strong fingers. She always surprised him with her thoughtful answers to his admittedly provoking questions. Yeah, he loved that room. It was their room. He’d fallen in love with her in that room.

“You just want to go to the Floating Hat for tea in the morning,” he accused, because he wasn’t going to sound like he was all choked up thinking of that room and lying on the bed with her, falling hard for her.

Seychelle laughed. “That could be true. Actually, before we left, I stashed some tea there from the Floating Hat. I wouldn’t mind going for breakfast if you’d like though. The scones are so good, aren’t they?”

Joy radiated through him. She did that to him. That laugh of hers. The way her smile lit her face, changed the color of her eyes to that particular shade of blue that got him in the gut every time. “They are, baby, but just sittin’ across from you anywhere does it for me.”

Her smile got even brighter. Turned mischievous. “I’ve been saving up questions, Savage. I think this time, I’m going to have you on your toes.”

He drove one-handed, reaching for her hand, capturing it and pressing her palm tightly against his upper thigh. “You always have me on my toes, angel. Love our little cottage. Lookin’ forward to your questions.”

She gave him a pretend frown. “That never bodes well for me. You come up with the worst questions.”

He threw back his head and laughed, bringing her fingertips to his mouth. “You love my questions.”

“I do not. They’re always about sex. Or something equally difficult for me to answer.”

“You never have trouble answering. You just don’t always want to tell me your fantasies. I don’t mind telling you mine.”

“Yes, we’re going to make new rules about those questions,” she declared.

He laughed again. Real, genuine laughter. “I don’t think so. We get to find out so much about one another. Don’t be such a little coward, baby.”

She laughed at him. “You wish I was a coward. I somehow manage to best your ridiculous questions. When I do, you retaliate and start getting all twisted.”

“Babe. Seriously?” He put the truck in park in front of the cottage and turned off the engine. “I am twisted. You already know that.”

Her eyes went soft as she took off her seat belt, leaned into him and cupped the side of his jaw with her palm. Her thumb brushed along his bristles. “I love you, Savin Savage Pajari. I always will. That twisted part of you is what matches the twisted in me.”

He shook his head and leaned in even closer to steal a brief kiss, his heart reacting with that strange squeezing like a vise that always felt like maybe he was having a heart attack. “There’s not one fucking thing twisted in you, Seychelle. Not one.”

“You know there is, and I’m happy there is. I fought it before, because I thought it meant there was something wrong with me. I realized it didn’t mean that at all. It meant I like our sex a little different than other people like theirs. That’s okay. I’m not as wild as you are, but that’s okay too. We don’t have to go there every time. You’re satisfied with some of the time, and I can give that to you because I love you that much.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net