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Read Excerpt 1:
Dulcina stepped over him and sat, back propped against the wall with legs bent over top of his outstretched legs. Yes, the space was cramped, but physical contact never bothered her, in any form.
Her home didn’t have room for a comfy chair or a breakfast table, so improvisation was a norm. She took the pizza box and set it down to her left, between them.
“Hungry...pet?” Dulcina asked, just barely avoiding the use of his name.
His eyes narrowed on her, then solidly corrected her. “Jake.”
She smiled. So persistent, this man. Dulcina pointed to the box. “It’s all I’ve got.”
“Not a fan of cold pizza,” he said, more of an easy statement than an objection.
“It isn’t exactly cold. Just not hot.” Dulcina shrugged. “Eat or starve. Your call.”
He grabbed a slice, took note of how she'd folded her slice, and did the same. They sat in silence, which gave her time to watch him from the corner of her eye. When he'd finished his slice, he scanned the room thoughtfully, then seeming resolved, grabbed another slice. What had he been looking for? Perhaps a refrigerator. Interesting. He'd rather eat what he didn't care for than waste food.
He was an observant thing. Practical. Another sliver of begrudging respect surfaced, and Dulcina forced herself to admit this man wasn't nearly as irritating as she'd first assumed. Other than the fact that he needed tending.
Dulcina settled a little deeper into her position against the wall, intending to shut off her brain until this show ended. Futile. Every little movement Jake made drew her attention. He glanced at the last slice in the box. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, practically able to see the war in his mind. Some imagined obligation not to waste food battled with the reality of him being stuffed full, and she could see the signs. Leaning back, he stifled a belch. Why torture himself with more food? Must be a human thing.
Folding the lid on the box closed, she leaned over his legs and tossed it onto the floor. When his questioning gaze met hers, she simply said, “You keep eating and I won't be able to lift your ass at all.”
A grin flashed across his face, and he nodded, unwilling to fight her over something he didn't truly want in the first place. Crossing her arms over her chest, Dulcina stared at the television, avoiding his dashing smile and the things it did to her libido.
For several moments the sound of the TV filled the space between them, and then Jake reached over a rather short distance, and grabbed her foot. Stunned by his impulsive behavior, she met his gaze, subduing the hot flash of wariness at the contact. All he did was grin again.
The heat of his palms wrapping around her chilled foot was a shock to her system, and after the astonishment wore off, she tugged her foot, but the grip of his right hand was far more tenacious than she'd expected. If she'd so desired, she could have easily freed herself from his grip, but she curbed her more violent responses, well aware she could injure him further.
“What are you doing? Let go,” she snapped.
“I haven’t been doing anything for days. I’m finally feeling good enough to move, but I can’t without hurting, and it sucks,” Jake grumbled, flinching slightly as his facial expressions tugged on the scabbed tissue on his lips, the bruises around his eyes. He calmed quickly, lowered his gaze to her foot, and slowly moved his thumb in a circle. “Doing nothing is making me stir crazy. I'm upright, and feeling mostly okay. Just let me have a focus, will ya?”
Dulcina’s jaw nearly dropped at his admission, not to mention the stern scolding. Not because they'd been the most direct words he’d spoken since she’d brought him home, and not at all because he was telling her flat out what he wanted from her, but because she shared those same sentiments. She went positively stir crazy without a focus. Every night. His words resonated with her, and his resolve sparked her interest.
What would he do then, if given free rein to do as he pleased? An experiment seemed in order. Dulcina released the tension in her leg, gave the full weight of it over to his hands.
Jake slowly drew her foot back onto his lap, the positioning more for the benefit of his bruised and cracked ribs than her comfort. Once she adjusted and settled, he pinned her with a ‘pay attention’ gaze and pointed to the TV. Directing her? Interesting. To what end?
Dulcina did as he asked, keeping a sharp eye on him in her peripheral vision. Once he seemed satisfied that she’d obeyed, he set to work on her foot. Jake didn’t watch the TV with her, and he wasn't keen on catching her reaction to his touch. Instead, he truly threw his entire focus into rubbing her foot from ankle to toe.
Sinfully thorough, this man. After he’d taken his time rubbing every inch of her foot with those distracting fingers and drawing bone-melting circles with his thumbs, he cupped his hands around her entire foot with a gentle, firm pressure. The contact was delicious, warming her in a way that had little to do with physical heat.
Jake tapped her shin, and when she looked up, a question on the tip of her tongue, she saw him pointing to the other foot. This was strange. All of it. A man she didn’t know was touching her, taking pains to see to her comfort, while he was still recovering from multiple injuries. This tender, selfless care was something done between mates.
Dulcina flinched. That thought was jarring.
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