Page 115 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Where does he live?”

Paisley heaves her back against her chair, frowning. “Why do you want to know so much about my brother?”

I study her with narrowed eyes. She’s nervous.

“Well…” she says, and I’m all ears. “I can say that when my mom calls my brother, she doesn’t rattle him.” Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

I raise a hand. Paisley is a master at diversion, but I decide to play along. “No, it’s fine. My mother and I have a complex relationship.”

“Oh yeah?” Her tone is leading.

“Yeah. She’s not a horrible mother. She’s the one who made us who we are. She has expectations because she’s afraid with one mistake, we can lose it all.”

She sits up straight. “One mistake? Like what?”

Paisley looks genuinely curious. I thought all Groves were aware of the Valentines’ morality clauses. Charles Grove, her grandfather, used them to win his licensing case for the original version of TRANSPORT against my grandfather, Hugo.

“It’s all about our family’s reputation. Do you know anything about that?” I ask.

“About what?”

“Letting down your family?”

She shows me a beautiful yet solemn expression. “Don’t we all?”

I let silence reign. I want this discussion to fizzle away. I don’t want to push her anymore, at least not in that way.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you—do you really think it’s smart of us to start making flying cars?” I say.

Her eyes light up. “If it’s possible, then why not try?”

I grin, mainly because I like to see her happy. “But come on—flying cars?”

“Well… it doesn’t have to be a flying car per se. Maybe we’ll end up with a superhighway. There are three major reasons for rush-hour traffic…”

I don’t want to hear them—not right now, at least. “Are you done eating?” I ask. When I look at her, all I see is beauty, sexiness, and a woman I need to be inside of stat.

She puts her fork down, her eyes just as on fire as mine. “Yes.”

I’m on my feet. “Then follow me.”

Damn.

I’m coming already. Her tightness grabs my cock like it’s her best friend. I’m trying to keep it going until she climaxes. But…

“Oh!” I pull out. I hate that—pulling out. “Oh, baby!” I ejaculate into my hand and mumble a string of curse words.

I was overexcited.What am I going to do when I can’t make love to Paisley Grove anymore?

She’s moaning as she curls up in a ball. I love it when I make her do that. I want her to orgasm. I want her sex to jerk and convulse and show me it’s alive.

“When are you going to get on the pill?” I open the drawer of my nightstand and take out a T-shirt to clean my hands.

She yawns while stretching. “Soon. Next week.”

Look at her body. Damn, she’s sexy.

That’s too late. “I think I can get you in to see someone tomorrow.”