Free Fixation by Inara LaVey

will pass and when it does, you will be hungry.”
    I let Balam help me to my feet, blanket wrapped firmly around me. Which reminded me--.
    ”What happened to my clothes?”
    Balam guided me to the passenger seat of his vehicle, leaving the door open. “Wait here.”
    Like I was going to go tearing off into the woods wrapped in nothing but a blanket. Besides, even with Balam’s help, the effort it took to get to the car and sit upright both exhausted and disoriented me. Shutting my eyes, I tried to pretend the world wasn’t spinning around me in stomach-churning circles. Ugh.
    “Here.” I opened my eyes to see Balam holding the jeans, T-shirt, and hoodie I’d been wearing when I’d gotten in my sleeping bag last night. And was that my lace g-string? Yup, sure was. Seeing them made me feel oddly better. I mean, if he still had my clothes, didn’t it prove he hadn’t planned on ditching or, worse, killing me. Okay, he could be waiting to dispose of me and my wardrobe at the same time. But that seemed like overthinking the whole thing, right?
    I reached for my clothes and tried to stand at the same time. Not a good idea. I almost immediately sank back into the passenger seat, willing myself not to throw up.
    “Let me help you.”
    I would have refused his assistance had things like raising my arms above my head and bending down to pull on pants not made my vision blur. Besides, he got me into this mess. The least he could do was play ladies’ maid for the night. Heat suffused my face as he slid my g-string up my legs and the blanket slipped off my shoulders, leaving my breasts bare to the cooling air—and his gaze.
    “Shirt, please,” I said stiffly. He obliged, pulling the tee over my head as gently as possible. I slid my hands into the armholes, feeling better once the shirt covered my breasts and torso. I will say he did his best to help me maintain my modesty. He couldn’t help the fact the touch of his fingers made my skin tingle with anticipation. I felt even better once my jeans and hoodie were in place, even though my skin prickled under the fabric like a bad case of sunburn.
    He brought my shoes, battered pink Converse knockoffs I’d bought at a swap meet. He helped me slip my feet into them, tying the laces with an economy of movement I could only admire. He managed to combine efficiency with an innate sensuality that brought back vivid memories of those clever hands and fingers on my body.
    The memory made me blush, heat suffusing my face and no doubt turning it a lovely shade of red. No matter how tan or burned I was, my skin announced any embarrassment felt as clearly as a neon sign reading, “Maya is currently experiencing humiliation, thanks for noticing.”
    “Shall I take you home?”
    “Yes, please.” A thought occurred to me. He’d told Jeri I’d gone home with a migraine. So—
    “Where’s Agnes?”
    Balam looked understandably blank.
    “Agnes. My truck!” This time his look included a raised eyebrow. I glowered at him. “Yes, I name my cars.” He tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile and I growled. “Don’t judge me.”
    “Apologies, Maya. Your ... er ... Agnes is at the address on your driver’s license.”
    “You drove Agnes without asking?” For whatever reason, this pissed me off more than the whole temporarily being trapped in the form of a jaguar there. I mean, yes, my truck was kind of a beater, but it’d been my first new vehicle when I first bought it and I didn’t let anyone else drive it. Ever.
    Balam had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I apologize, Maya. Normally I wouldn’t dream of using someone else’s belongings without permission—”
    “Except for the whole dream sex thing,” I muttered, even though that hadn’t exactly been without permission.
    “—but these were unusual and extreme circumstances. I assure you your truck is undamaged and sitting in front of what I assume is your home.”
    “Jack’s gonna wonder what’s up with that. I