Chapter Seventeen #2
Josie knocked on Pax’s office door and tried the handle, but the door was locked.
“Mr. Pax,” she called, and knocked again. “I have to tell you something.”
The doorknob twisted beneath her hand and Josie stepped back, but the door didn’t open. A muted curse came from behind the door and the knob twisted back and forth again.
“Umm.” Josie looked around, but Amos was counting birds on the staircase and not paying attention. “Umm, Number Five?” Josie whispered. “Can you open this door? I need some help.”
Josie didn’t know if she was relieved or creeped out when she heard a quiet click and the door finally opened.
It wasn’t Pax, though. Maddy stood in the doorway, clearly annoyed.
“What?” Maddy asked.
Josie tried to peer around her to see if Pax was there, but Maddy stood so none of the office was visible behind her.
Whether Pax was with her or not behind a locked door wasn’t important.
“Denis is on his way to a bar to get drunk and he’s in a mood.”
That was important.
“I’ll kill him.” Maddy stepped out of the doorway and closed the door behind her so quickly Josie had no time to see if she’d been alone.
Not that this mattered. Because Maddy sounded as though she really was going to kill Denis. Josie didn’t like the guy—gnome, whatever—but she didn’t want him to die.
What better reminder she shouldn’t be crushing on Pax than the fact he was a knight from another dimension who managed a hotel full of mythical creatures who could wreak serious havoc on her world if they got it into their heads to do so.
This entire situation gave Josie a headache. And a stomachache. Any high she’d experienced from her bravery in the library was now extinguished.
“Don’t kill him,” Josie said as Maddy stalked toward the front door. “That would attract attention.”
Maddy turned and shot her a disbelieving look. “I watch your television. People kill each other all the time here.”
“Mom says there’s a lot of bad stuff on grown-up TV.” Amos had left off counting birds and wandered over to Josie’s side. He took hold of her hand and pulled. “Can we haves a snack now?”
Josie nodded at Amos although she aimed her words at Maddy.
“That’s right, buddy. There is a lot more violence on grown-up TV than there is in the real world.
Those shows make us feel unsafe so we stay home and buy more stuff.
In the real world we don’t go around killing each other in bars because the police would come. ”
A movement in the corner of her eye caught Josie’s attention and she glanced over to see Bert, this time in a Lions jersey, shaking his head and mouthing something unintelligible to her.
Maddy must have understood, because she sighed theatrically. “Fine. I’m going to go get Denis and have a long talk with him about his actions and their consequences.” She coated that last word with such sweetness it hurt Josie’s teeth.
“Before I go, do you know what set him off?” Maddy asked.
Josie cut a glance to Bert, then at Amos, who was now holding her hand and leaning toward the stairs, essentially using her as a pole for his I-want-a-snack dance.
“He said”—Josie lowered her voice and leaned in toward Maddy—“he said I wasn’t working.”
Sympathy from Maddy was the last thing Josie expected, but the derisive snort the other woman let out still stung.
“I suppose I can’t blame him for being frustrated,” Maddy said. “This whole experiment has been deeply disappointing.”
With those warm words, Maddy left the building.
Bert shrugged sympathetically, but Josie’s headache intensified and lasted even after her and Amos’s nighttime snack of carrots and celery and ice cream.
Experiments had a beginning and an end.
How long would this one last, and would she and Amos be allowed to stay once the experiment was finished?
· · ·
Pax knocked softly on the door and counted to five. If Josie didn’t answer, he would leave. It was after ten, and she went to bed early, and this was a dumb idea, and he should…
“Hi.”
Pax blinked.
Josie’s hair was again in the shape of a cinnamon roll atop her head, but pieces of the roll had fallen apart and framed her face.
She looked as though she were staring out at him from behind a heart.
She wore an enormous blue-and-red shirt with a white buffalo on the front, and baggy blue-and-white flannel pants.
Something about the combination of big clothes and messy hair caught him off guard. Before he could pinpoint what made her enticing in this state, she frowned.
Damn. How long had he been staring?
“Maddy didn’t kill Denis.”
That’s all he wanted to tell her. There was no other reason he should be standing here, disturbing her rest and gawking at her.
“I wanted to let you know,” he said.
Josie nodded. “Thanks.”
That was it.
The kisses they shared last night must not have been very memorable or enjoyable.
Pax was going to turn around and leave.
Right now.
“In case you were worried,” he said.
In case she hadn’t understood the first time and wanted to ask him a question.
“Okay,” Josie said.
So, that was that. Message delivered. Time to go.
He remained standing.
Josie blinked, then took a step back. “Do you want to come in for a—”
“I don’t want to bother you,” Pax said, even as he crossed the threshold. “Maddy told me about earlier tonight and I wanted to set your mind at ease.”
Did she believe him?
Pax couldn’t tell. He didn’t know Josie well enough to be familiar with the shape of the frown now bowing her lips and drawing her eyebrows down to bump into each other at a deep furrow above her nose.
“Denis said I wasn’t working,” she said.
Ah. That was the frown Josie wore when worried. He would remember and try to erase it when he saw it.
“Denis has a way of twisting everything into a complaint,” Pax replied. “He cannot know if you and Amos are helping or not. Simply because events aren’t happening fast enough to his liking doesn’t mean they aren’t happening.”
The frown hadn’t completely disappeared, but now Josie pushed her lower lip out farther than her top lip, and she appeared less anxious and more thoughtful.
She had a compelling lower lip.
A buzzing sensation came to life at the base of his spine.
“What happens if this doesn’t work. Do Amos and I leave?” she asked.
His stomach dropped and Pax put his hand on the wall to steady himself. This meant he was half caging Josie against the wall. Another step closer and his chin would be brushing the crown of her head.
“No,” he said firmly. “No. If this isn’t working, we will find another way, but Number Five wants you here.”
He paused, then lifted her chin gently with his other hand. Her eyes widened and the buzzing grew stronger.
How could a woman’s skin be so soft?
“We both want you here,” he confessed.
He should back away. It wasn’t right for him to crowd her like this. He’d been through the mandatory HR training and seen the videos. But the sconces to the left and right of them had dimmed and she set her palm on his chest, not to push him away but to settle over his heart.
Still. Consent was key.
“Pax,” she whispered. “I don’t know…”
“Say the word and I will leave,” he told her, his eyes locked on her lips when she wet them with her tiny pink tongue and his cock hardened. “I will not take anything further than what you want.”
The floorboard directly beneath Josie’s toes lifted up and she grabbed Pax around the neck, gasping in surprise.
“Number Five, behave,” he scolded, but Josie was giggling and the sound made him lightheaded, so he had to hold on to her in return.
The closer they held each other, the less the world around them—the walls and bricks enclosing them, the responsibilities awaiting them, the looming questions of what if and when—the less any of it mattered.
Kisses were magic. Not in the strict sense, but in the sense that the simple brush of lips against lips could conjure a lust so sudden and strong at the exact same time it also filled you with a sense of satisfaction as comforting as finding a warm spot directly in the center of a sunbeam.
Pax could say with certainty that Josie could perform some magic; her kisses were soft and damp, starting out hesitant and sweet.
So sweet he was back to his boyhood when tag was foreplay and holding hands made his heart explode.
They changed after the first few seconds to adult kisses, long and hard, tongues and teeth.
Even though he canted his hips to rest his hard-on in the valley of Josie’s thighs, Pax remained focused on kissing her.
She tasted like nothing else he’d ever had on his tongue, better than whiskey, better than pie.
Because of the difference in their heights, he had to pick her up to hold her close.
He didn’t want her to break off from kissing because her neck hurt.
Pax didn’t want anything of Josie’s to hurt.
Josie pulled her lips from his, bending her head until their foreheads touched.
“We can’t be out here. What if Amos wakes up?”
“Number Five will tell us if he wakes up,” he said to Josie. “Won’t you?” he asked Number Five.
In response, the sconces winked off and on.
“Whoa,” Josie whispered. “Does Number Five like frozen custard?”
Panic squeezed his stomach. “Is that a joke?”
Josie’s head tilted back when she let out a laugh that sounded like a satisfied sigh and the noise gave him a charge, like the slick sting of electricity, and he pulled her even closer, relishing the way her thighs pressed around his hips.
“We should get out of the hallway,” she whispered.
Out of the hallway to the bedroom?
Thankfully, Pax didn’t ask this out loud.
Too much, too soon. For them both.
Instead, keeping Josie held tight against him, Pax walked into the living room and settled them both on a soft green couch.
They resumed their kisses, finding a pace in between furious and languid; she trailed the tip of her tongue along the side of his neck until he made a noise, then returned her lips to his.
He licked the skin above her pulse and relished the tiny lift of her hips in response.
Sweet soft touches, tentative exploration, the sound of night falling gently outside, and the plush slide of cotton against velvet combined to leave him lightheaded and vulnerable.
Not once since he’d joined the army had Pax felt this vulnerable.
Vulnerable and weightless.
A thousand warriors of the Dark could challenge him right now and he’d surrender. Happy to leave this plane on the heels of such a carnal yet pure experience.
Who knows how long they kissed, slowly tumbling to the side and rearranging themselves so Josie lay on top of him, free to let her hands roam where they wanted and discover whatever she wished to find?
In return, she allowed Pax to slip his hands beneath her shirt to find a clingy short chemise, and beneath this, the sweet, heavy fullness of her breasts.
Another time or place, he would have pulled the sweater off over her head to better see her body. From the cushioned thighs and the plumpness of her breasts, he could tell she would be stunning, but Number Five would only do so much to give them privacy.
Rather than wishing for something he hadn’t yet earned, Pax let Josie tell him how far he could go and what gave her pleasure.
By midnight, the two of them lay facing each other, her hand down his sweatpants and his palm between her legs, adrift in a cloud of sated lust, self-conscious laughter, and the potent scent of what could be.
“Please,” Pax whispered, relishing the invisible sparks tickling his lips when they brushed up against Josie’s earlobe, “don’t let Denis scare you off. If I could get rid of him, I would, but he paid for his room, and I can’t kick him out unless he violates the Wayside Oath.”
Josie shivered at his words.
He pulled her tight against him. “I’ll keep him away from you and Amos, I promise.”
“Don’t,” she said quickly. The return of the frown from before, the one that unsettled him so, gave him a low, dull ache in his belly where before there had been contentment. “Don’t promise me anything, Pax. I’m not ready to believe it.”
Later, after they’d detangled themselves, after he’d kissed her a long good-night, after he’d walked through every corner of the building making sure all was quiet, Pax thought back on Josie’s words.
What kind of world was this where a woman would believe in magic before she would believe in kindness?