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He stared up at me with a grin. “If you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask.”

He shoved his hips up, his feet flat underneath him, and bucked me off him. He twisted to get behind me, but I guided him between my thighs and locked my ankles at the small of his back.

We lay quiet for a moment, both of us panting. He braced his hands on either side of my shoulders.

“Give in yet?” he asked.

I laughed. “Never. It’s a character flaw, really.”

“Your only one, I’m sure,” he said, his too pretty face only inches from mine.

I met his intense eyes and drew in the scent of him. For the first time in a long time, I could admit I was enjoying myself. Fun with a fairy. It sounded like a Sunday cartoon. But there was nothing juvenile about the press of his hip bones into the sensitive flesh of my thighs and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Focus!

“I have many flaws. I’m sure you’ve witnessed several in the short time we’ve known each other.”

“As a gentleman I’d never bring them to your attention, of course.”

I snorted. “Of course.”

He tried to drag himself from the grip of my legs, but I held him tight.

I crisscrossed my arms in front of me, grabbing opposite edges of his t-shirt, and squeezed tight at the throat.

He slammed his forearm hard across mine. I let go as the pain hit me just as hard.

I smiled. “It was worth a try.”

He surged forward, pressing off the ground to standing so I hung off him like a limp balloon. This wouldn’t end well. I twisted over and released him to get to my feet. Before I could, he grabbed my hips, lifted me in the air, and slammed me flat on the mat. Not the first time I’d been body slammed, but it hurt as much as it did then.

I rolled away and shifted to my knees. He stood with his hands on his hips regarding me. “You’re also kind of scrappy.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

I stood to match him, arms up, waiting for the next attack.

He didn’t charge forward though.

I dropped my arms and looked him over. “Done so soon? Your pants get wrinkled already?”

“My valet uses Scotch Guard. I don’t get wrinkles, thank you.”

I put my ha

nds on my hips. “Was that a joke?”

He didn’t smile.

“Or do you really have a valet?”

I couldn’t read him as well as I read other people. When he spoke to me, he seemed pretty straight forward. But I had no idea what little thoughts lurked behind those intense eyes.

I was busy scanning him and didn’t realize he’d closed the distance between us. Preparing for another attack, I shifted on my feet, but he didn’t touch me, only stared down into my eyes from his height.

I wanted to crack a joke, make a quip, something to break the unbearable tension building between us. He reached out, and I took the chance, I grabbed his arm, and twisted him over my hip to throw him flat on the mat.

He groaned from his new place, flat on his back. “I wasn’t making a move.”


Tags: Amelia Shaw The Rover Fantasy