Page 72 of Shifted Desire

I shiver. “Mmm, you’ve thought about it a lot?”

His “yes” is a low rumble.

I turn around and look at him through my lashes, loving how his eyes grow hooded as I press closer. Bringing my lips to his ear, I linger there for a heartbeat, savoring the woodsy scent of him and the heat of his body against mine, delicious tension lingering in the air.

“I’ll show it to you on my yacht.”

A loud guffaw bursts from him, and I step back, giving him a devilish grin as I kick off my heels, letting out a soft groan at how good it feels to be free of them.

“Damn, guess it’ll be a while before I see it.”

I frown, crossing my arms over my chest. “Hey, I thought you said you’d give me anything.”

“I did. But sadly I’m not ‘buy a woman a yacht on a whim’ rich.” He shrugs. “Maybe when my parents kick the bucket, but they’re stubborn and probably will hang in there another twenty years. I doubt you’ll want to hang around that long.”

“I don’t think I’d mind.”

The words slip from my lips before I can process them. My stomach lurches at the unfiltered honesty. At my admission that I’d be down to spend twenty years with Nathan.

His eyes widen and I curse my stupidity.

“Depends on how big a yacht it is,” I tack on, but it’s too late.

He knows I meant it. I can see it in the strange softness in his eyes. Is that pity in them? Regret?

Fuck.

“I’m starving! Are you going to feed me or what?” My voice is far too loud, but I need to drown out the surge of embarrassment.

Nathan nods. “Food is ordered and is on its way.” He pulls out his phone to check the food delivery app. “Should be here in ten. Want to change into something more comfortable?”

“Fine, I’ll show you my other form,” I say with an exaggerated sigh. At least if I shift into it, he won’t be able to see how red I’m turning.

He rolls his eyes at me. “I meant clothes. I’d rather not sit around in my suit and tie any longer than necessary, and that dress is sexy as hell, but doesn’t look great for lounging.”

“Oh.” Wait, we’re going to be lounging? “Uh, sure.”

Nathan holds out a hand to me. “Follow me, then.”

He leads me down a hallway lined with black and white photos, most of which feature him, an older white couple, and a white man about his age. I pause at one of them, where he’s in a graduation cap and gown, barely eighteen and all gangly limbs, with a stiff smile as what must be his family surrounds him.

“I didn’t know you were adopted.”

He frowns, stepping in behind me, his hand resting on my waist as he looks at the photo over my shoulder. “You didn’t?”

Defensiveness spikes inside me. “Why would I? It’s not like we’ve ever had deep conversations about family and that sort of shit. We fuck or we work, and you occasionally tell me about your weird obsession with snails.”

“I’m not obsessed with snails! It was one documentary.”

“Well, I know a lot more about them than I do about you, apparently,” I huff.

He presses his lips to my shoulder, clearly not getting that I’m trying to be pissy. “I didn’t know you wanted to know about me. I thought you’d want to keep things…casual.”

“I want to know about you. Of course, I do,” I grumble.

I feel him smile against my skin before he presses his lips to me, this time on my neck. “Let’s get changed and then we can have a ‘deep conversation and talk about family shit’ over dinner.”

He tugs me along after him, and it feels like I fell into a trap of my own making. If he talks about himself, he’s going to expect me to reciprocate. If I find out more about him, it’s going to make this thing between us more real.