Chapter 7
Plutus didn’t push his advantage, much to E’s relief.
She’d been embarrassed in the museum not because she was kissing someone in public, but because she’d nearly lost control from a simple kiss.
He’d tasted as good as he smelled, and the smoky notes of his lips lingered long after their kiss.
She wanted him, damnit, which might be fine in theory.
She’d had one-night stands in the past. Sex with men she didn’t know well didn’t rattle her.
The fact she had to hang around with the god for another month afterward might make it awkward.
Oh, and the fact he was a freaking god and he acted like he wanted more than simple sex upped the complication factor.
All of this meant E heaved a big old sigh of relief when Plutus didn’t try anything in the more private confines of the car when it picked them up from the museum.
He ignored her doing something on his phone.
She tried to ignore him also, but it was damn hard when heat seemed to roll off him in waves, seeping into her skin.
She craned her neck, trying to see what he was doing.
“All you need to do is ask, E.” Without even looking at her, he’d caught her snooping.
“It’s fine.”
A snort came from the god. “Even I know ‘fine’ means not fine for most human women.”
“Have you been with many human women?” The question popped right from her mouth without thought. E had no idea where it came from, or why a pit formed in her stomach at the thought of what he could say.
Plutus slowly lowered his phone and turned his body in the seat so he could face her more fully. “I’ll answer that, little one. If we are playing twenty questions.”
Well, shit. She wanted the answer, but did she want it enough to waste one of her remaining questions on it? The word mine echoed in her mind again, roared actually, and she had to know. “Fine. Twenty questions. Again, have you been with many human women?”
“Define many,” he said, a slow smile spread across his full lips.
When E huffed at the reply, he laughed, a whip crack sound she felt down to her toes.
“I’m not trying to be evasive, E. It is an honest response.
I’ve lived for millennia, so any answer I give could well be many if I am judged by human standards. ”
She hadn’t thought of that. She wanted to ask more; about his apparently long life, how he survived through human history, why he seemed so comfortable in her world when he’d lived through so much history already.
E managed to keep her trap shut, because the game was afoot.
Instead, she nodded in acknowledgement and really thought about what he said.
“Let me revise my question: how many human women have you spent time with like this?”
“None.”
“I doubt that.” If he wasn’t going to honest with her, what was the point of their little question game? She leaned back into her seat, her arms folding around her middle, turning to look out the window and watch the city slide by.
A hot, strong hand gripped her thigh. “E, look at me.” The command in his voice made him hard to ignore. Oh, she tried. For all of ten seconds, before he said, “E,” again and squeezed her upper thigh. Something in her couldn’t not look his way.
“I did not lie. I will not lie. Not to you.” His green eyes blazed into her brown ones, dragging her down into their depths. “You asked a specific question, and I answered. I have never spent extended periods of time with a human woman. Until now, I had no reason to do so.”
E wanted to press, but she didn’t ask all the questions his answer brought up. The biggest one being, why me?
The hand at her thigh rose to her face, cupped her cheek. “You are unique to me, E.”
Not special. Unique. Maybe they were similar enough, but there was a distinction in her mind.
Special meant valuable. Unique meant one of a kind in general.
The single word stung far more than it should, but helped her reinforce the wall she needed to erect around her heart.
The wall she’d had no problem keeping in place prior to Plutus.
“I believe you,” she said. She did believe him. Whatever brought them together, tied her up in him, helped her believe.
“My turn,” he declared, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. A clawless thumb, she thought with more than a little disappointment.
He moved back, leaned against his door to give her some space. “What is your thesis topic?”
Her forehead crinkled in confusion. He didn’t make her ask why. He shook his phone in his hand. “After I made reservations for the evening, I did a quick search on your name. Found some of your conference presentations. It made me curious.”
“Okay…” If he wanted to waste his questions—which seemed to be a pattern given his first question was about her hair—she’d let him.
Plus, her thesis was a safe topic. The city continued to zoom by as she talked at length about her research on the intersection between book preservation and college curriculum.
How one can help the other, with the right relationships.
As she spoke, Plutus tilted his head toward her whenever he wanted to ask a question.
He couldn’t outright ask, she knew, because they were technically still in their game.
His desire to know, however, came through loud and clear.
Which caused a different, maybe more dangerous, tingle to race through her than the one when they kissed in the museum.
And she found herself giving him what he wanted every time.