11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

M isty

Words. Zylus just said words. Any minute now, my brain will register them. In the meantime, I'll just bask in the sheer, hot intensity of this, the best kiss I've ever shared.

I'm molded to his rock-hard body. Between my thighs circling his waist, and his hands, now firmly clutching my ass, I'm tucked as tightly against him as possible.

His taste, his scent—aged leather and seasoned wood—are intoxicating. That green tongue was just deliciously exploring me. My pulse is pounding between my legs and my nipples are begging to be palmed, then plucked.

"Should we talk about this?" His words finally register.

Even though I know there are important words in that sentence, it takes me long moments to sort it out. Talk. I think that's the salient word.

Should we? Should we talk? Ah, yes. I've known him less than a day. We're now partners in this doomed remodeling endeavor. And… I'm not up to date on my birth control .

Birth control. That's a pertinent word.

"Yes. Talk." I reluctantly slide down his perfect body, jolting back to reality when my bare feet touch the cool wooden floor.

We're caught in each other's gaze, both nodding in agreement that we should talk. Neither of us is saying a word.

"Bad idea?" He ekes out a few syllables, his forehead now pleated with lines usually indicative of physical pain.

"Probably." I return a few syllables of my own.

"We should stop?" Damn him. That wasn't a statement. It was a question.

"Maybe." Misty, that was far from definitive.

"Maybe not?" He cocks a very interested eyebrow. Then, to be even more eloquent, he tips his head. Clearly a suggestion we not stop.

Birth control. My sane alter ego reminds me. You barely know him. You just saw a ghost. You're probably still in shock.

Perhaps it was that last word that sucks me out of my hazy, lusty dream-self and pulls me back to sanity.

"Yeah. Stop." I say firmly but letting him hear the reluctance in my voice.

Now that I've returned to reason, I have to grin at my handsome green roommate who is wearing nothing but a toga and a smile. A fanged smile. I can't decide which way he looked more attractive: butt naked, or togafied.

We've kicked the covers around, so he chivalrously pulls the two piles farther apart, then remakes the pallets. As we crawl into our makeshift beds, we both accidentally-on-purpose manage to move them closer together again.

I smile when I see the extra bedsheet is still knotted over his shoulder .

Even though I got almost no sleep last night and today has been emotionally draining, it's not hard to figure out why I'm too ramped up to sleep. My blood is pounding in my veins, not allowing me to forget how amazing that kiss was.

We both lie on our sides and gaze at each other as we fall asleep. Despite the shitshow that is my life, I haven't been this optimistic in years.

I wake in the morning with the bright Hallion sun pouring in from the high, arched windows.

Even with the fire in the hearth that takes up half the east wall, it was still a bit chilly when we went to bed last night. It's warm now. My eyes flicker closed as I contemplate falling back asleep. It's only when I realize I'm surrounded by heated bodies that I bolt wide awake.

There's a very large, very warm, very masculine body snuggling me from behind. A hand, fingers spread, is tucked against my belly. When I turn my head, I see Zylus's perfect features relaxed in sleep, a lock of his long, black hair trailing along my neck and dipping between my breasts.

Later, perhaps I'll do some sleuthing to figure out which of us trespassed across the imaginary boundary we established before we went to sleep. In the meantime, I'll just enjoy our position, even the happy morning wood pulsing along my ass crack.

My eyes pop wide when I realize I don't just have a warm body plastered to my back, there's also a body tucked against my front.

"Eek!" I use whatever force is necessary to extricate myself from under Zylus's arm and stand up, wiping myself with both hands as if killer ants were swarming over me.

The offending critter has run to the corner and is staring at me accusingly for waking him up. I'll bet this is the furry little mammal that pulled most of the stuffing from the couch to make a nest on the floor.

Did I really just screech "eek" at that adorable little creature? The shaggy, turquoise-colored animal, the size of a small dog, has humongous, pleading eyes and cute little hands like a raccoon .

It's backed against the far corner and is chittering excitedly.

" Chitza ," Zylus says, his voice sleep-roughened.

Is my translator not working again? "What?"

"It's a chitza ."

"Is it poisonous? Deadly?"

"A chitza ? If you put enough time into them, they can be domesticated. I'm not surprised to find him here. They often invade abandoned houses and bring their hoards inside."

"Hoards?" I ask as I bend to a crouch and reach my hand out while I give the little furball smacking kisses.

"They collect shiny objects in the wild. When they have a safe place to store their junk, they bring it all inside."

It's not surprising that when Zylus rises, he treats me to a view of his naked ass— perfect, green naked ass. It would have been folly to think that the knotted sheet could withstand a night of tossing and turning.

As cute as the chitza is, I totally lose my focus and find my attention drawn to the perfect man-buns gallivanting around the room.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Looking for his hoard." His voice is matter-of-fact as he looks under the couch, then behind large pieces of furniture.

"Here. I found it."

He moves a large, burled-wood buffet away from the wall to expose the chitza's hoard. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't the wide assortment of shiny objects, broken jewelry, dropped coins, and candy wrappers that spill out when not contained by the gorgeous antique.

Zylus strides to our messy pile of blankets and sheets, paws through it, and ties a white sheet into another toga .

"We've got a lot to do: food, attorney, and a trip to the quarry to choose replacement tile."

Despite his scolding to get a move on, we both freeze, our gazes locked. "And pajamas," he adds. "We'll both need thick, ugly, flannel pajamas."

I can't help but snort at that. "What, you don't think we can control ourselves without the world's unsexiest sleepwear as a barrier?"

Zylus's eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks me up and down, not bothering to hide the prurient interest in his gaze. "After our kisses, I could use a little help in that department."

"Where's the fun in that?" Despite my bold words, a blush creeps up my neck. It's one thing to get carried away in the heat of the moment, but quite another to talk about it in the stark light of day. Especially when we've got a dilapidated inn to renovate.

To lighten the mood, I throw a pillow at him, laughing as he bats it away easily. "Now go put some real clothes on before I change my mind about those flannel pajamas."

"Yes, ma'am." He sketches a playful bow before disappearing up the stairs, sheet toga fluttering behind him.

I shake my head, unable to wipe the silly smile off my face as I gather the bedding. My gaze lands on the little chitza , who's ventured out of his corner to nose curiously at his scattered hoard.

"Looks like it's just you and me, buddy," I murmur, crouching to scratch him behind the ears. "Think we can whip this place into shape without killing each other or giving in to our baser instincts?"

The chitza chirrups, bushy tail wagging as he butts his head against my palm. I choose to take that as a vote of confidence.

Rising, I survey the cluttered room with a critical eye. The inn may be a disaster and my new partnership with Zylus may be a bigger wild card than the project itself, but I've never been one to shy away from a challenge .

Time to roll up my sleeves and get to work.

But first, coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.