“Ah, I assure you. No bison are involved.”
Obviously, he didn’t want to talk about whatever the obligation was, and if this was potentially their last night together, she wouldn’t press. “What about this Queen Angria? Does she get some prison time for sending in every nut she could get her hands on to capture me?”
“The king will see to her punishment, of that I promise. The king is a fair, kind man at heart. He’s a brilliant ruler for the most part,” Jon said with an admiration she hadn’t expected.
Somehow, she’d expected the king would be a douchenozzle like all the other fairytale kings she’d read about. Angry, greedy, hand happy with beheadings and doling out high taxes so he could dine on fine crops his villagers slaved day and night raising.
“That’s good to know. I can’t wait until he takes these shoes off. Have we figured out where these things came from and why the king has them?”
Jon shook his head. “I still know not. I admit ’tis an odd item for the king to have. Though, I don’t doubt they’re part of the reason you can now breathe fire and parse truths from lies.”
“How crazy. All of this has been just crazy,” she murmured.
“It has been an adventure, to say the least.”
“Will you be happy to go back to your quiet life?” She was fishing. She knew she was fishing rather than straight-up ask him how he felt about her, and she didn’t know why.
It wasn’t in her nature to skirt big issues and she wondered if it wasn’t because this was so important to her, she was too afraid to dig.
“I like your noise,” he offered without commitment. “I like you. I like your friends. I would wish our worlds were more easily traveled to and from.”
She smiled up at him, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. “Really? And what would you do if you could travel back and forth?”
He appeared to give that some thought before he said, “I’d date you. I’d talk on this phone with you. I’d play this game Nina speaks of on the computer called Minecraft. I’d watch TV with you. I’d take you away from your horrible boss Bree and take care of you so you never had to fold another thong again,” he whispered against her ear.
Tears welled in her eyes. He’d date her. She realized now, she wanted that more than she even wanted a cup of coffee and a pastrami and swiss on rye with stone-ground mustard. He’d really been listening to their road-trip chatter, absorbing their lingo, and that touched her heart.
Cupping his jaw, she ran her thumb over the stubble on his chin and whispered, “You would?”
Jon brushed his lips over her fingertips. “I would,” he answered, just before he pressed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth with that familiar rasp of silk.
She sighed, pushing her arms upward until she wrapped them around his neck, arching against him as he pulled her tight to him, his hands splaying across her spine.
He devoured her lips, licking, teasing, tasting, running his hands over her arms, the contact of his calloused palms on her hot flesh making her tingle.
Toni pulled him to her, gripping each side of his shirt, her nipples delighting in the delicious friction against the fabric and his hard chest beneath.
Jon rolled her to her back, lying on top of her, molding his thickly muscled frame to hers, moaning into her mouth. His fingers skimmed the underside of her breast then pulled away, skating along her flesh, moving the blanket farther down until she was almost naked.
Then he stopped just as suddenly, tearing his lips from hers and staring down at her, his eyes wide with concern.
“What’s wrong?” she huffed, trying to catch her breath.
“Milady, we must stop. We must stop now.” He began to move off her, but Toni grabbed him and pulled him back down on top of her.
“Explanation?”
“Your virtue.”
She blew a bit of air from her lips. “Oh, that? Long gone.”
“You have bedded men?” he asked, his sapphire eyes incredulous.
“Well, not by the dozens. Only three.”
But Jon didn’t look relieved. In fact, he looked horrified. “Three?”
“You say that like I said a million. Yes, three. For my age, I’d say that’s pretty close to virtuous in this day and age, buddy.”
“And what is your age?”
“I’m thirty-two. Too old for you?”
“No,” he blustered, his skin flushing. “I’m in my thirty-fifth year.”
“Then what’s the hang-up here?”
“Where you come from, this is allowed?”
“Allowed? Well, yes. As long as you’re over the age of eighteen. Though, that’s not always the case. Most of us lose our virginity in high school. Not all, but a good percentage. It’s when our hormones are at their freakiest.”
“What is a high school and a hormone?”
“One of the most lethal combinations in the history of man.”