“You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he murmured between kisses. “Having you here and not being able to touch you? Thinking about that night we had together? It’s been pure torture.”
And his hand slipped to the waistband of her pajama pants.
Taylor froze.
The blood was roaring in her veins and she wanted nothing more than to conquer him like Everest, but . . . her period. Shit. She wasn’t one of those girls who was into period sex. She pulled back from his embrace and gave him an awkward pat on the cheek. “Raid’s about to start. I’d better log on.”
The look he gave her was dazed. “What?”
“I need to play my game.” It sounded idiotic, even to her own ears, but it was an excuse and she needed one badly. Her entire body was crying out for more kisses, more caressing, but she pulled herself off his lap, straightened her clothing, and somehow managed to not cry over how unfair her body’s timing was.
“Game. Right.” He exhaled deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. “Guess it’s time to give Brunhilde a test run.”
And she hated that she chirped a vague affirmation.
Only a few more days, Taylor.
***
Clearly he was doing something wrong.
The thought obsessed Loch as he did his laps through the park’s many paths. There was something about Taylor that he wasn’t able to figure out. She’d been open and generous with herself when they’d first gotten together, and then pushed him away for the next week. Now, he’d had her in his hotel room for the last four days and it had been a mix of pleasure and torture. He liked having her around, because she was always amusing, but it was agony to see her wander through the hotel room with tousled bed-hair, her eyes sleepy, her breasts swaying under the fabric of her clothing. He’d even seen her cross the room in her T-shirt and panties once when she’d thought he wasn’t looking.
He’d jerked off to that mental image in the bathroom, and part of him had desperately hoped she’d open the door and join in. Didn’t happen, though.
Nothing was happening, and that was the frustrating part.
He’d thrown down signals right and left. He’d flirted outrageously with her, and used every opportunity to touch her without being a creep about it. All of it went unnoticed. She either brushed off his flirtations or had her nose buried in her computer.
For a man who was supposed to be wooing a woman into marrying him, he could barely get her to kiss him. And when she finally picked up on the signals he’d been throwing down, she jumped out of his lap and told him she had to play her game.
Either he’d lost his touch with women, or something else was going on.
Maybe it was that Sigmund who was always texting her. She spent a lot of time gaming with him. She’d assured Loch they were just friends and she wasn’t interested, and he’d believed her . . . but now he was starting to wonder. She always did have a bit of a hunted look on her face when one of the texts showed up.
But Taylor didn’t seem like the type to carry on with him while she had a boyfriend. And though she’d been odd since that first night together, she had made the first move. He wasn’t imagining that.
He finished his run, bought a bottle of water, and then started to head back to the hotel. Out of habit, he looked for the homeless man who had been on the same corner for the last four days. Just like before, he was there. And just like every other day, he paused and opened his wallet to give the man some money.
“Morning,” the man said, voice gruff and so low that Loch wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first.
He paused, absurdly pleased that the man had spoken to him. “Want lunch?”
The man grunted. “I’ll take it if you have it.”
“I mean, do you want to go to lunch with me? I could use a bite and some company.”
The man squinted up at Loch. “Where you think you’re gonna go that they let someone like me in?”
“It’s a free country, isn’t it? We can go wherever.” Loch shrugged. “You pick the place. Besides, I’m not exactly fresh and pleasant myself.” He deliberately wiped his sweaty face on his even-sweatier shirt.
The man stared at Loch for a moment longer, then got up. “Diner down the street. Follow me.”
“Of course.”
They walked down the busy street together in silence. The diner in question was rather rundown, with a tattered awning and even more questionable insides, but the man at the counter waved at Loch’s new friend and it was clear that this was familiar territory. All right, then. They sat at the counter together and Loch gazed at a grease-smeared menu. “What’s good here?”
“It’s all shitty, but it’s cheap.”
The man ordered a burger and fries, and Loch ordered the same. He sipped the water placed in front of him and then looked over. “I’m Loch, by the way.”
“Like Loch Ness?” The man smirked. “Can I call you Nessie?”
“Rather you didn’t.”
The man grunted. “Rex.”
“Like the tyrannosaur? Shall I call you Dino, then?”
The man wagged a finger at him. “Don’t be smart.”
“Trust me, it’s not my strong suit.” A cup of coffee was placed in front of Loch and the waitress quickly wandered away again. He sipped it, then made a face. It tasted like dirt. “That’s awful.”
“Told you,” said Rex, but drank his coffee anyhow.
“So, are you a native of New York?”
“Nope. Clear you aren’t, either.” He grabbed a few packets of ketchup off the counter and slid them into a pocket. “So you wanna tell me why you’re buying a guy like me lunch?”