Page 96 of Blood that Burns
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAGGIE
We head back to his room in the servants’ quarters so that Law can grab some clean clothes. I can’t help but wonder what memories are so bad that he’d choose this place over his quarters that I’ve been staying in. It’s plain and small in comparison.
Law heads to a small armoire, pulling out clean clothes, and I make myself at home, curling up on his bed.
A yawn escapes me as I fall back onto the pillow.
“You’re getting awful comfy over there,” he says, humor lacing his words.
“I’m tired.”
He pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it in the corner, and my mouth parts on an exhale. His toned chest is on display, and I’m practically salivating.
“Maggie.” He groans, and the way he’s looking at me has my toes curling and body tingling all over.
“Come lie with me.”
He blows out a breath, looking weary and unsure.
“It wouldn’t be the first time, Law.”
He grunts, but ultimately takes the bait, and my stomach flips and flops like a damn fish out of water.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me in to his side, and all is right in my world.
I stay curled up at his side for several minutes as we both just enjoy the moment. There’s nothing untoward about it. We’re simply relaxing after a vexing workout.
Keep telling yourself that.
After a while, the silence begins to gnaw at me, and I can’t help but break it.
“Why do you stay in here?” I ask, staring at Law’s chin, inspecting the day-old scruff that lines his jaw. It’s sexy.
“Not a fan of this room, sunshine?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I murmur, feeling off-kilter from his hand resting against my heart.
It’s not sexual. It’s his way of ensuring I’m okay. It’s something he’s done before. The day he saved me at Johnson Park, that night when he snuck into my room, he placed his hand on my heart.
“It’s just so much smaller, and Katina cleaned your actual room.” I sigh heavily. “That bed,” I moan, wishing to feel the satin sheets and down comforter against my skin.
“If I knew you’d near orgasm by simply lying down on outrageously expensive bedding, I could’ve been easily persuaded to take up residence in that room again.”
Unintelligible croaking slips past my lips, and my cheeks heat. I hate how inexperienced I am. Law excels at flirting and dirty talk. He’s never spoken like this to me, but I’ve witnessed it a time or two over the years with other humans.
“Sunshine,” he drawls, “am I making you uncomfortable?”
“What?” I squeak. “No... I’m comfy here with you.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he says, leaning forward and placing a kiss on my forehead.
“I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.”
Good God, put me out of my misery. My ability to flirt is clearly nonexistent.
Law grins, and I have to force my hands to remain in place and not to cover my face. That would somehow be even more humiliating.