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collapsed back down onto his chest.
 Yummy, she said, then yawned.
 Indeed.
 You have a good penis, she told him.
Diesel laughed. She said the funniest damn things.  Thanks, sweetheart. I can t take any credit for it,
but I appreciate it.
 I like your tattoo. Her finger ran up and down his side, lightly.  Very badass.
 Thanks. I didn t notice any ink on you. Not your thing?
Her shoulder lifted in a shrug.  I don t know. I just couldn t ever imagine what I would want on my
body permanently. I m not opposed to it.
Laying there was sticky and comfortable. Diesel felt his own yawn building up and he tried to squelch
it.  You want a shower before we sleep?
Her head lifted and she pulled a face.  Sure, a shower would be good, but I can t sleep. I m hungry.
 You re hungry? Was she serious?  It s . . . He glanced at his cell phone on the nightstand.  Two in
the morning.
 I want Chinese food.
 Chinese food? Are you kidding me? You ate like three pieces of pizza and a whole bowl of chips.
She peeled herself off his chest and gave him a cold raised eyebrow stare.  You got a problem with a
woman who likes to eat? Would you prefer I be like Jonas Strickland s wife Nikki and carry around a
bag of lettuce as my go-to snack?
Shit. He had sounded like an ass, hadn t he?  No, of course not. I m just impressed, that s all. Most
women wouldn t be confident enough to order Chinese food at two in the morning. He wasn t sure
that sounded right either, but what the hell was he supposed to say? He started sweating, trying to
think of something better to say.
Tuesday wanted to laugh at the look of fear on Diesel s face. This was the first time she d ever seen
him look at all nervous. It was kind of fun, a refreshing change of pace. She didn t really give a shit
what he thought of her eating habits. So she wanted fried rice, what of it? Thanks to her parents, she d
been blessed with a very high metabolism. Between that and working out five days a week, weight
wasn t an issue for her. So if post-sex she wanted deep-fried crap, she was going to eat it. But seeing
him trying to retreat out of his faux pas was really damn amusing.
 I opened the door completely hungover because I wanted the coffee you had for me. My stomach
always takes precedence over vanity. Rolling off of him, sighing a little when their bodies separated,
she added,  Besides, a lack of confidence is not my issue.
 What is your issue?
Like she d tell him. If she knew what it was, that is. She really wasn t sure what was wrong, aside
from the obvious she was grieving desperately for the loss of her father. It wasn t anything more
than that. She didn t think.
She wasn t even sure why her head was going in that direction at all. Maybe it was just that being
with Diesel was different. It was intense. It loosened the reins of her control, and that had her
spinning out in directions she didn t necessarily want to go. Which wasn t acceptable.
 My issue is that I m not going to be able to sleep until I ve had at least another orgasm. Keep it
light. Sexual. Not on real stuff. Because she really was having a hell of a good time and she didn t
want that to change.
He studied her for a second, but he went along with her. He said,  That s easy enough. Chinese food.
Orgasm. In that order?
 Yes, in that order. I m sure you can handle it. Tuesday gave him a lingering kiss with plenty of
tongue, before peeling herself off the bed.  Is this the bathroom? she asked, heading toward the door
that looked like the most likely candidate.
 Yep. Are you taking a shower? There are towels under the sink.
 I m just going to pee.
Diesel laughed.
 What? she asked, padding carefully across the carpet. With just the one lamp on by the bed, it was a
little dark in there and she didn t want to stub her toe. Diesel was incredibly neat though, and there
was nothing on the floor that would trip her up.  Real women pee and eat pizza, though not usually at
the same time. I hate to break this to you, but it s true women are human. She opened her mouth in
mock horror, even though he probably couldn t see her particularly well.  We even burp!
He didn t look shocked.  I know. You ve already burped in front of me.
 Oh. Right. Tuesday refused to feel embarrassed.  Well, good. You clearly need the reality check.
 And you re clearly here to give it to me. Diesel lolled on his bed, very naked, very relaxed. He
opened his mouth and let out a gigantic burp.
Really? Tuesday went into the bathroom before she laughed. What a moron. A very cute, very sexy,
very incredible moron.
His bathroom was clean. He either had a maid or he was good with a sponge. Impressive. After using
the toilet Tuesday checked herself out in the mirror while she washed her hands. Yep. She was
looking like she had been in bed for the last two hours. It was about time. Her hair was a disaster and
her skin was flushed and dewy. Or sweaty, however you wanted to look at it.
It was definitely satisfying to see the visual of how she felt.
When she walked back into the bedroom, Diesel was sitting up scrolling through his phone.  I found a
place that will deliver at this insane hour.
 Awesome.
He patted a pile of clothes on the bed next to him.  And I got you a T-shirt and a pair of shorts to
wear. I figured you won t want to lounge around in riding boots.
It was such a small thing. A normal, thoughtful gesture. But for some reason, Tuesday felt the sudden
urge to cry. What the hell was the matter with her? She knew she could be too demanding sometimes.
Producing Chinese food in the middle of the night wasn t exactly easy and she had kind of obligated
him to at least try. So she didn t really expect that he would be inclined to be additionally thoughtful,
yet he was. Stupid that she would react at all, but she couldn t help it. She was.
She hadn t been lying to him when she had told him that she wasn t used to men being anything short
of selfish. The one man who had consistently treated her well had been her father and now he was
gone.
Ducking her head so he wouldn t see her expression, Tuesday flopped onto the bed next to him.
 Thanks. And I ll take orange chicken, please.
 Okey doke.
 Okey doke? Tuesday shook out the neatly folded T-shirt on the bed. It had a beer logo printed on it.
Of course.  Are you going old man on me?
 Maybe. You ve probably aged me ten years in a week.
Tuesday rolled her eyes.  Doing what? She pulled the shirt on over her head.
Diesel rubbed her thigh as she stretched her legs out to pull on the shorts.  You re a lot of work.
Even though he was teasing her, Tuesday couldn t help but bristle just a smidge.  Screw you.
He just laughed, leaning over to give her a loud, smacking kiss. In the position she was in, she half
fell on her side as his weight threw her off balance. Her hands wound up tangled in the nylon shorts
under her thighs and her hair was poking her in the eyes. But she was pleased instead of annoyed.
Being with Diesel was natural and comfortable. She felt totally at ease, saying whatever she was
thinking, not worried about his reaction.
 Let s go outside, she told him.  It s kind of cold in here from the a/c and I bet it s beautiful out
now.
 Sure. He dialed a number on his phone.  You re dying to nose around my house, aren t you?
Duh.  Of course. I m trying to figure out why one heterosexual man has so many throw pillows.
 The decorator bought all of those. She was a Christmas present from my aunt when I got this house. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]