Gizmo (Demented Souls Book 6) by Melissa Stevens

Author:Melissa Stevens [Stevens, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-22T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Gizmo wondered what had prompted him to agree to letting her cook for him. He usually tried to keep things impersonal. More distant. He didn't mind taking a woman out, then back to her place, or his. This was a little awkward though and he didn't quite know why.

Maybe it was that they were in her space, her territory. Now, they sat in metal rockers on the narrow strip of cement that made up her back porch. Her yard was only a little larger than the master bathroom at his place, but the plants surrounding every inch of the small plot made it apparent she spent a great deal of time and energy working on it.

"Do you watch TV?" Jill asked after a while.

"Some. Not a lot but I have a couple shows I like to keep up with. What about you?" He watched her, wanting to see her reactions.

"I watch a lot of TV, or at least listen to it. I keep it on in the background while I work, then I usually turn something on in the evenings while I'm playing." She paused, keeping her gaze on the birds and butterflies flitting about the flowers a few feet away. "What do you watch?"

"Mostly crime shows. I like NCIS. I used to watch the original, but it lost something after Abby left. Now I watch New Orleans."

"I like that one. The best part is Scott Bakula." She met his gaze. "He's done a lot I like."

They talked TV, music, movies and books until after the sun had set. Gizmo didn't know how much time had passed when Jill turned and stared at him, her head tilted.

"Would you like to go inside?"

Gizmo didn't know what she had in mind, but at the moment he didn't really care. He was happy as long as he got to spend more time with her. Jill slipped her hand into his as they stood and led him inside. He followed, wondering where they were going as she tugged him through room after room until they reached a bedroom where she turned and leaned against him, her chest flattening against his as she leaned close and stretched up to kiss him softly.

He didn't have time to register much, the bed, a chest of drawers, a TV mounted to one wall. The woman in his arms absorbed most of his mind.

They hadn’t been in the room a few moments before clothes started falling to the floor. The only items he bothered to take care about were his kutte and the holster and pistol, he'd worry about the rest later. Before he knew it, they were lost in each other's bodies, in the touch, the taste of their partner. Every sensation made him want to hold her tighter, to never let her go. But was she willing to deal with his life? Could she handle the secrets and half-truths?

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