When I wake up, the top of my head is a little sore, but that’s about it. I can't believe I was made to go the hospital with something so trivial. I think I allowed that to happen because I was in shock—not from Elijah’s clumsy assassination attempt but from what happened between me and Juno.
As soon as I recall that encounter in the kitchen, I get hard. Does this mean I have regenerated all the blood I lost? Probably. I know this much: instead of me taming my biology, Juno is turning me into my biology’s slave.
With a sigh, I take off the bandages and use a second mirror to examine the wound. It doesn’t look bad, and my hair should cover it all nicely. Still, just in case, I’d better steer clear of Gram until full recovery.
When I’m done with my morning routine, I check my phone to remind myself of today’s plans.
Ah, right. The photoshoot. That’s an activity Juno and I can do that seems relatively safe… as far as biological urges are concerned.
Boy, was I wrong.
Juno looks extra sexy for the shoot—which, in hindsight, makes sense. She’s female and we’re about to take pictures.
Oh, well.
I do my best to smile instead of gritting my teeth when the photographer asks me to embrace her. As I do, her earthy, wonderful scent makes me as lightheaded as when I lost all that blood last night.
“Smile,” the photographer says.
With an effort, I lift the corners of my lips.
“A real smile,” he says.
Should I tell him that it’s hard to smile when you’re trying not to get hard?
“Say cheese,” he urges.
Could Juno’s body heat melt cheese? The thought makes me smile, which brings the photoshoot to a blissful conclusion.
“So, what now?” Juno asks me after we get into the limo.
Great question. Whatever it is, it’ll be best if we’re not alone, or else what happened last night could happen again—and that would be a mistake for many reasons, but especially because she made it clear she regrets it. How else can I interpret her refusal to even talk about it?
To that end, we check out two amazing parks: Ichetucknee Spring and Devil’s Millhopper—the latter being the only attraction I’ve heard of that’s located in a gigantic sinkhole.
With every minute, I feel more comfortable in Juno’s presence. I would even go as far as to say I genuinely enjoy her company. Which is a problem, one to which I think I have a solution. So, as we return to the limo, I ask, “When do you need to go back home?”
She sighs. “Soon, I’m afraid. I have to take care of all of my clients’ plants. They can only wait so long to get watered.”
“That settles it,” I say. “We’ll take you to the plane.”
Her eyebrow arches. “Me? What about you?”
“I’ve decided to stay behind for a few days. I still need to survey the land, sign all the papers, and hopefully get the ball rolling on getting all the permits.”
I’m not great at reading people, but I think Juno looks disappointed—though it’s probably because all our nature hikes have come to an end, not because she will miss my company.
“What about the visit to your grandmother?” she asks. “I thought that was soon.”
“It’ll be the first thing we do when I get back,” I say. “I’ll set it all up, don’t worry.”
“Okay.” She chews on one deliciously plump lip. “But… could we talk on the phone before that?”
I cock my head, puzzled. “Why?”
She shifts from foot to foot. “So we can learn more about each other. Your grandmother is the main reason for the fartlek, after all.”
That makes sense to me. I nod decisively. “Sure. I’ll call you.”
And why not? It should be safe.
It’s not like I can almost-eat her pussy over the phone.