Page 111 of The True Garza

He snakes an arm around me and pulls me up against him. “’Cause I like you enough.”

But still notenough.

All this time I thought he had women milling in and out of these doors. Why didn’t he correct me when I made those assumptions? No wonder I was being talked about in the group. And stupid,stupid, stubborn me forced him to bring me to the place that hedoestake all his women. His downtown fuckpad.

My heart flutters a bit at the thought that I’ve gotten a little more of him than others had. That he likes me ‘enough’ to want more time with me.

But it’s still not enough.

I want more.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He takes hold of my chin. “Not this serious thinking face. I hate it. Beherewith me.”

“Wha—”

He’s kissing me before I can finish the question. Shutting me up. Forcing me out of my head. To focus on his lips, his tongue, his heat…

Slowly parting, he whispers against my lips, “Tell those thoughts to shut the fuck up, and stay with me, all right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was simply wondering why Kangaroos hop.”

“Gorgeous liar.” He releases me and picks up the hardcase again. “Gonna put the leftovers in the fridge. You can go upstairs and take off that armor now.”

I glance down at my jeans. Little good this armor did.

“Just so you know, it does nothing to mask your arousal.” He steps in and cups me over my jeans. “This pussyknowswhat it wants. I could smell every drop of its tearsfor me on that roof.”

Unabashed, I shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

“Go take itoff,” he hisses, then lets me go and strides off to the kitchen.

The only one I’d be punishing by keeping them on anyway is myself. I head up to his room, go straight to his ensuite bath, strip, and jump into the shower. I keep it cold, to kill the trembling heat and quivering need. Otherwise I’ll instantly combust when True touches me again. It’s embarrassing.

Once my body is all cooled down, I wrap a towel around me and pad out to the room. At the dresser, I open the top drawer to steal something of True’s to wear, then pause. The last time I opened this drawer, it was packed with boxers. Now it’s packed with….

Tentatively, I slide my index finger under the thin strap of one of the many silk and lace garments and lift it out. Cock my head and frown at it.

“That one’s my favorite.”

True’s voice has me snapping my eyes up to the mirror. He’s just inside the room, pulling his shirt up over his head, his tight abs stretching with the motion.

Turning around, I ask, “Have you started cross-dressing, or did you lie to me earlier?”

“Hmm.” He loops his shirt around his neck and waggles his brows at me. “Would it turn you on if I cross-dressed? You like that kinda thing?”

With an irritated noise, I throw the garment at him, but it’s so lightweight and delicate that it merely flutters to the ground halfway between us.

He chuckles. “The things in those three top drawers are yours, Goldilocks. I didn’t send you all the lingerie and dresses I’d bought you. I kept some here so you’d have stuff to wear whenever you slept over. But then you forbade sleepovers, so….”

All this time I’ve had drawers in his bedroom when I wasn’t even sleeping over? I’m so confused by this man. How does henotdo relationships, but at the same time has done something like this? Does he know how significant it is for a man to offer a woman a drawer? Let alonethree?

“There are some things in the guestroom closet, too,” he says when I just stare at him.

“Oh, okay,” is all I manage to get out, lost for words.

Muddled, I turn back to the dresser. In the mirror, I catch him frowning at me before he shakes his head and goes off to the bathroom. Hesitantly, I open the other two top drawers. One has panties, one has brassieres, and one has sleepwear.

This is so confusing.