by Malcolm Moss
“What?”
“Come here.”
She wasn’t really sure why, but she obliged all the same. Scooting a good six feet towards him, she only stopped when she was within an arm’s reach. Still unsatisfied, Weston pulled her even closer until her shoulder pressed into his ribs and her head rested on the meat of his shoulder.
Even as the screen illuminated with fabricated explosions and old-school gun fights, Alice hardly noticed. She sipped her bourbon as she tried not to focus on the smell of Weston’s shirt or the heat from his torso. It would have been so easy to get swept up by him again.
At some point, Weston rose off the couch and walked away wordlessly only to return with a fresh bourbon and a beer. When he sank next to her, she wrapped her free arm around his chest and swung her legs over his lap. His only response was to plant a sweet kiss on her forehead.
“I’m sorry this isn’t what you thought it would be,” she found herself saying through the bourbon.
“Alice, you don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Weston kissed her forehead again, this time pulling her in closer to his chest so that only her feet touched the couch. “We can go fast or slow or we don’t have to go at all, but I’ll never say this isn’t what I wanted.”
The cryogenist cringed at how easily he’d managed to draw her back in. She was stuck between two years of celibacy and a man who wanted more than she had to give him. Tucked against his chest, she decided to let the decision wait until morning.
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Find more works by Malcolm Moss, including the sequel The Guardian of Dreams on All Romance eBooks.
