Chapter Fourteen
Huxley
“This is a super awkward question.”
“Love it. Can not possibly be weirder or more awkward than some of the shit people would ask me or tell me when I was in office. I have an excellent poker face, try me.”
Half an hour after Tamsyn had shuddered to a pretty epic climax over his thighs, she was wrapped in a blanket and lazing in his lap. He’d made her drink some water, and she’d refused food.
The sweet little thing seemed a bit fuck stupid still, dazed and drowsy but silly and content all at once. He wanted to make her feel that way every damn day. Several times a day if he had his way but she’d probably want to work at some point.
That was the thing about being attracted to smart, driven women. You needed to be willing to cede control enough to let them be that way. Or even better, support them however they needed to thrive out in the world before coming home to you. After all, her ambition and intelligence and moxie were things he loved about her.
Even if it was too soon and he’d keep that word to himself, it didn’t feel wrong. Love.
Which meant he really needed to figure out how to bring Lo into the picture sooner rather than later so his twin wouldn’t feel too much like a third wheel. More than he already did at any rate.
Head still lolling against his shoulder while he held her, Tamsyn blinked up at him while scratching a nail lightly over his pec, right where his heart was beating.
“Do you ever… Ugh.”
His little girl buried her face in her hands and shook her head.
“I just can’t,” she muttered from between her fingers.
As adorable that particular shade of pink was on her cheeks, he didn’t want her to actually be too shy to ask or tell him anything ever.
“Sure you can. I am literally inviting you to do your worst. Please, make me blush and stammer. I’d like to know I still can have some shame.”
She gave him a look from under her brows.
“I’m sure you can. I’m sure you always could. That’s part of what would’ve made you really good at your job; you’re deeply human.”
“Lowell would be none too pleased to hear you say that. He’s always hoped to turn me into more of a cyborg. These ‘feelings’ and ‘morals’ and ‘conscience’ of mine have always been very inconvenient for him,” he told her, exaggerating the finger quotes so she’d know he wasn’t being serious. Entirely serious anyway.
It worked too, eliciting a giggle from her that had her covering her mouth. He loved to see her lips and her smiles but it was girlishly charming the way she would hide behind her hand.
Her expression shifted to apprehensive and she stared at her fingertips that continued to graze his chest.
“Speaking of your brother,” she began, and something inside him went on high alert.
This could be very good or very bad. He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart start to race under her touch as he tried to remain outwardly calm while inside he was dying to urge her on.What about Lo? What about him?
Her gaze flicked to meet his before she looked away again. His chest hair must be the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Do you ever, uh, play, like,withyour brother?”
Her face was pinched, her mouth twisted to the side as she peeked at him from under her lashes.
Holy shit. Was he awake or had he fallen asleep while he cuddled Tamsyn on his lap and was dreaming? Wouldn’t be terribly surprising if he had. Not only had they enjoyed each other to the point of collapse, but he genuinely liked her, felt comfortable with her in a way he didn’t with most people. She’d made it clear that not only did she not expect him to play his charming political self, but she didn’t want it. How refreshing.
But this didn’t feel like a dream, no matter how fantastical it might be. She felt too real, looked too abashed for this to be a fantasy. Tamsyn must’ve caught on that he was momentarily stunned because she started to ramble.
“Not the two of you. Not the two of you alone, I mean. Not twincest. That’d be like narcissism run amok. But not the weirdest kink I’ve ever heard of. That’s not what I’m asking though. I mean the two of you with someone else?”
This was definitely not a dream because the Tamsyn he knew would never be this awkward. He wouldn’t have been capable of imagining her this way without seeing it with his own two eyes. Even when she’d yelled at him unjustifiably and been proven wrong, she’d brazened that out. Not stammered like this.
So he perhaps took advantage, given that this uncharacteristic artlessness might never happen again.