Bounty Hunter (The Rover 1)

I snorted and dropped my feet to sit flat on the mat, my knees up framing his hips. “A mate? Really? I don’t believe humans have mates, and if we do, we rarely refer to them as mates.”

He rolled his eyes. “A boyfriend, husband, lover?”

His voice had taken a smoky register that did not bode well for my hormones. I cleared my throat so my voice didn’t waffle when I answered.

“It wasn’t in my files?”

When he just stared at me, hands braced over my shoulders I shook my head.

“No, I don’t have any of those things. How about you? Do you have a mate?”

It felt silly to ask him that, especially with him laying between my open thighs. After time stretched awkwardly long, I thought he wouldn’t answer but then he shook his head softly.

“No. I don’t have anyone else.”

Anyone else? A strange way to answer an equally strange question. He blinked and pushed off me to sit on his calves.

“Are we done?” I sat up and folded my arms over my knees.

He turned his face away from me.

Instead of letting the awkwardness set in further, I shoved at his shoulder until he tilted and glared at me.

“We aren’t finished, old man. I want to see some of this fae strength you were harping about.”

“I refuse to injure you when we have a lot of work to do.”

“Then don’t hurt me.”

He cocked his head. “It almost sounds like you trust me.”

I shot up and over to topple him back to the mats. He twisted impossibly fast to put himself on top again.

“That’s more like it,” I said, and wrapped my thighs around him again.

He started to stand, but I gripped his ankle, rolled over to put him off balance, and twisted to capture his flying arm into a bar lock. He dragged his arm from my grasp and then pinned me again, all his weight pressing down onto my chest and thighs. His knees locked my legs together so I couldn’t capture him again.

“You have some moves, Grandpa.”

“Stop calling me grandpa,” he said, his mouth only an inch from mine. His breath smelled of coffee and I swallowed, suddenly aware of every single place our bodies touched.

Our chests, our thighs, our hips, our knees. His arms holding mine tight to my body. I let myself breathe him in for a moment. Hold on to it. Let myself feel it.

He leaned down, so slow I wasn’t sure he moved at first. I locked my gaze with his. The man wasn’t about to kiss me, not while I lay immobile under his body.

But... I wouldn’t push him away if he closed the shrinking gap and took my lips.

Damn. It was easier to hate him.

A door banged against the wall and the giant bodyguard barged in and stomped all over the moment. I should have been grateful but instead I felt hollow, an empty ache in my chest, in my body.

“Captain?” Fin said, still staring into my eyes.

“We have a problem, sir.”

Chapter Eleven

Play time ended as quickly as it had begun. The hard-won ease we built with our verbal and physical sparring waned, and I regretted its loss.