I send a text to Charon, and a few minutes later, he and two others appear to silently take the food away. I pull a throw blanket out from the small chest tucked against the wall and drape it over Persephone. She looks smaller in sleep. That has instincts I thought nonexistent rising to the fore. Then again, everything about this woman fucks with my instincts.
I watch her sleep for a few moments, measuring her breathing. She’s fine. I know she’s fine. I don’t know why I’m so sure the moment I turn around, she’s going to be rappelling down the side of my house or creating chaos.
My original plans for tonight need an update, which means I need to make a few calls.
By the time Persephone wakes a few hours later, I have things in motion to my satisfaction. She sits up like someone fired a gun next to her head and blinks at me. “I fell asleep.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you let me fall asleep?”
She sounds so accusing that I almost smile. Again. “You needed it. You have an hour to get ready. Juliette already sent over a few things for tonight. They’re on my bed.” When she just stares at me, I make a shooing motion. “You’re so determined to convince me that you’re fine. Unless you really aren’t feeling up to this…”
“I’m fine.” She nearly gets tangled up in the blanket as she stands but manages to right herself before she takes a tumble. Persephone gives me a sharp look. “I have my own room, you know.”
The longer she’s here, the harder it is to remember that she’s not really mine to protect. I’ve promised her safety, yes, but the mundane day-to-day things don’t fall under that umbrella. Unless I want them to. I have no business telling her that she’s staying in my room going forward, no matter how appealing I find the idea. “Get ready.”
She frowns but finally moves into my bedroom. Persephone pauses just inside the door. “If I take too long, are you going to kick down the door because you’re sure I’ve collapsed?”
It’s a good thing I don’t feel guilt, or I might be blushing. “You have a history of ignoring your body’s needs. And that’s in the last forty-eight hours alone.”
“That’s what I thought.” She gives me a positively angelic smile; if I had hackles, they’d be raised seeing that. Persephone bites her bottom lip. “Why don’t we save the dramatic entrance? You can play guard dog and supervise at the same time.” She presses her fingers to her temple. “I’m not in danger of passing out, but one can never be too sure, right?”
Heat courses through me, and I have to lock myself down to resist taking a step toward her. “You wouldn’t be trying to tempt me into losing control, would you?”
“Of course not.” She turns and there’s definitely a little more swing in her step than there was earlier. As I watch, Persephone pulls her sweater over her head and drops it on the floor. She’s not wearing anything underneath it.
Even as I tell myself to hold firm, I follow her into my bedroom. She pauses in the doorway to the bathroom and works her leggings off, bending at the waist. Fuck. I am treated to the sight of her round ass and then she disappears into the bathroom.
Following her in there is a mistake. She’s attempting to top from the bottom again, and if I let her direct this…
I’m having a hard time remembering why I need to keep control. She might light the spark that turns us into an inferno, but I’m too dominant to let her drive things for long. I’m also self-aware enough to realize when I’m making excuses. That knowledge isn’t enough to keep me from following her into the bathroom.
Persephone meanders into the walk-in shower as if she isn’t temptation personified. I like that she’s not the least bit self-conscious about being naked in front of me. That she’s fearless enough to grab the tiger by the tail. Fuck, I kind of like her.
“Persephone.”
She stops and glances over her shoulder at me. “Yes, Sir?”
She knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and the little brat is enjoying every moment. Truth be told, I am, too. I take a position on the bench near the entrance of the shower, well out of the water’s spray. “Come here.”
Her smile is nothing less than radiant. She waltzes back to me and stops right before her knees touch mine. She’s a golden goddess with long, blond hair, her body a temptation I have no intention of ignoring. “Yes, Sir?”
“Your mouth is being obedient, but your actions aren’t.”
She does that adorable lip-biting thing again, her eyes dancing. “I suppose that means you want to reward my mouth.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. It feels as rusty as it sounds, but I like the way her lips curve in response. It’s not her beaming sunshine smile. No, this expression is genuine amusement. I snort. “I’m not remotely surprised you jumped to that conclusion.”