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SIX WEEKS HAD PASSED since Ajay failed the MMPI psych evaluation. He sat in Emily's father's kitchen and perused the true/false questions Emms had downloaded online.
The song playing on a small kitchen radio ended. A news report began:
"Renovations to begin on the new police headquarters. Detective Felton was quoted as saying, 'The rat-infested, roach motel should have been demolished years ago'. Thanks to Chase Industries and a very generous donation to the city, the Detective and his police force of ten volunteer and two full-time officers will have accommodations—some say—plusher than the Houston PD."
Emily slid out the chair across from Ajay and sat. She wrapped her hands around the ceramic mug, absorbing the warmth. "How's it going?"
How could she be cold? Gotta be a hundred and fifty degrees outside. Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but it was friggin hot as fuck not an exaggeration.
August.
Texas.
Enough said.
Small women oftentimes struggled with keeping warm, or at least that was his experience. And he could admit, he had lots of experience with small women.
Course, he had lots of experience with tall women, round women, old women.
Neither here nor there.
Emms would probably want to fuck beneath the blankets. But to hell with that. He'd rather turn the heat to ninety and fuck her on top of the blankets.
Hell, he'd fuck her anywhere else but under the blankets.
Tub.
Kitchen table.
Back yard.
He looked at her. "What am I supposed to be doing again?"
"If you know what kind of questions ahead of time you can prepare."
"Prepare for a true false exam?"
"Got to know when to lie and when to tell the truth." She gestured to the paper. "Pick a random question and read it to me."
He glanced at the paper. "My sex life is satisfactory. Trick question. Is there an NA option?"
"Very funny. Now how would you answer?"
"Since I have no sex life, I'd have to say false."
Her shoulders slumped. "I thought you wanted to be a police officer. Stands to reason they don't want to hire someone whose . . . well, you know. So this is an instance where you need to lie."
Ajay slammed the paper to the tabletop.
Grimacing, she snapped it up. Her gaze perused up and down the paper twice before she looked up at him. "I love my father. True or false."
For the last six weeks, Ajay had slept next to her every night. He followed her home every day. He chased her around the restaurant. He kept his hands and cock to himself. Until now, every relationship he'd had revolved around sex. But not her. She was his friend. Not his lover.
But he couldn't deny the nightly wet dreams. And lately, restraining himself had proved to be more and more difficult. He jerked off constantly which didn't alleviate any of his sexual frustration. Holy hell, he wanted his little sweet Emms.
And he wanted her hard and fast.
"The question is: 'I love my father.' True or False?"
No. He didn't love his father. But he didn't hate him either. He felt nothing for his father. Tony was just a man who smelled bad, drank too much, cursed constantly and slept most of his miserable days away.
He vaguely wondered what his mother saw in him, how she ever found him attract enough to fuck him at least twice, spawning himself and Cam.
Speaking of fucking.
He'd love to get down to some fucking.
Sighed.
Focus.
He glared at her. "What's the question?"
"Ugh, I said, 'I love my father.' True or False?"
He couldn't blame Emms for being frustrated. Hell, he was frustrated.
Sexually frustrated.
Really, really sexually frustrated.
How the fuck was he supposed to focus when his dick was hard enough to hammer nails.
What was the damn question?
Oh, right, do I love my father?
He looked at her . . . at her long hair.
Long hair fanned across a pillow.
His pillow.
Do her from behind.
Grab that beautiful long hair and hang on tight.
Slap that tight heart-shaped ass.
Fuck.
Focus.
Father. Do I love my father?
"Ajay!" Emms smacked the table, as if scolding an elementary student. She twisted a pencil between her fingers, occasionally tapping the table with the eraser, for emphasis, he guessed.
God, he'd bet his left nut she was tight as a pencil.
She sighed. "Do you want to do this another time?"
Want to do you . . . right now. "Do I love my father?"
She forced a smile. Nodded.
"I love you."
Emms straightened. Cleared her throat. "I'm not gonna let you distract me." She lifted the back of his hand to her cheek. Kissed his palm. "I love you too. Now answer the question. I love my father."
"True."