Free 120 Mph by Jevenna Willow Page B

not have thought so, but
to Christian it was. He hadn’t asked a woman to dinner in nearly eight years. Nor
had he brought one home to make it a more interesting date by night’s end. This
was a first in a very long time; a first where he actually cared for the allowance
of such a rare gift.
    Most men would take whatever they
needed, whether offered freely or not. Sara trusted him. He wouldn’t sever that
trust by being stupid. He was going to offer a hot and heavy make-out session
and perhaps second base. If that failed, he had other ideas still in mind. No
woman nearly undressed was to get out of his grasp before he was satisfied—no
matter how long it took.
    “You will have to explain to me what you
mean by the word that , Sara.”
    Her smile fell, but the sparkle in her
blue eyes stayed the same. “You ask a question instead of answering any,” she
grassed.
    Christian tried to argue against this by
taking a step forward. “I do not.”
    Sara didn’t look as though she would
have tolerated the words ‘See? Not a question’;  therefore he wisely left those
stalled on the tongue.
    “Yes. You do.” She even gave him a hasty
nod. All of a sudden, she took the initiative to grab a handful of the books
and set them on the floor. Then, without invitation, Sara sat down and patted
the emptied cushion next to her leg. She waited until he sat before saying
more.
    “There. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
she taunted.
    “Well, that depends on what you think
good should be,” he construed, giving her a shameless grin.
    Sara turned toward him and put her hand
to his knee. The warm touch and the nature in which she did it, caused the
alarm bells to sound off in his head. Her honey tone added even more to the
raucous inside his skull.
    “I consider good . . . as in a mutually
agreed upon meeting of like minds.”
    Christian covered Sara’s hand with his
own, for it was definitely close to making regrets toward his promise to
protect the innocent by righteous word and faithful prayer.
    “But back to what I said earlier. You
always ask a question seemingly when you don’t want anyone to contradict your
thoughts.” Her statement quite bold, under the circumstances, since this his
home and she merely a guest within it, it surely raised his brow.
    “I ask a question when too stumped to
figure it out for myself,” he said, correcting the mistake.
    “Like now,” she dared reason.
    Christian challenged himself not utter
the words, ‘now . . .  what?’ Sara would have considered them another question,
and perhaps used them against him in some way. The look in her eyes confirmed
this.
    Very slowly, she pulled her hand free of
his and off his knee. “I am going to ask you something personal, Reverend.” She
paused, taking a deep breath, looking for the need to gather courage for any asking.
“And I would appreciate it if you answer me as truthful as possible.”
    Christian took a deep breath of his own,
then boldly nodded. “Ask what you must, Sara. I’ve nothing to hide.” Surely,
not anything inside her head would bodily harm him in any way, shape or forms.
    She gave him a hard look, yet without
adieu she questioned, “Are we having sex tonight or not?”
    Christian nearly fell off the couch.
    “Um, well  . . .” His hands gripped
firmly to the cushions to hide his initial shock. To say he hadn’t expected
this out of her would be quite an understatement.
    Regrettably, she started to add more
before he had the chance to catch his breath.
    “I mean, if we are . . . shan’t we get
at it?”
    “Good Lord! Sara,” he yelped. “Hell of a
question to ask a man before his dinner.”
    Sara held up her hand. “No. You promised
me the Lord wouldn’t be anywhere near us tonight.”
    His smile quick, he informed her, “God
is always near us, Sara.”
    He then caught the mumbled words “Don’t
I know it” spoken as her face turned from his.
    “What was that?” Christian baited,
expecting swift