Free Huntress by Nicole Hamlett

knew that it was time to bring you in and start preparing you.”
    Nodding distractedly, I pulled my phone out to check the time. “We should start back. He’ll be home soon and I could really use one of his hugs right now.”
    “Sounds good. If you can make it back without bitching, I’ll make you something special for dinner.”
    “Deal.” Not a word passed my lips the entire way back. Miracles did happen.

Chapter 5
     
     
    Explaining Drew hadn’t been as difficult as one would expect. While Dylan was a curious kid, he was pretty accepting. When he’d asked who the fancy model type was in the kitchen and I’d made up some story about assistant slash personal trainer slash au pair, he’d accepted it at face value and wandered off to finish homework.
    It made me wonder if I’d ever been so easy going and accepting.
    Later that night we were discussing Drew's new role in our lives.  Yes, Dylan still had to pick his own dirty underwear up off of the floor.  I stressed (perhaps a little too vehemently) that Drew was not my boyfriend, and that just because we had a man living in the house did not mean he had to rush to tell his Dad.  Overboard?  Probably.  His left eye had scrunched up with a look that clearly stated he thought his dear-ol'-mom had gone off the deep end.
    “Whatever,” was the response I’d been given before he went back to playing his latest videogame.
    I noticed a few days later that small changes were already happening around the house, even though Drew had only been with us for a short while.  Dylan had accepted him pretty quickly and was responding well to the new male authority.  Right now they were in the living room working on math homework.  It was kind of nice having someone around who'd been alive when mathematical theorems were invented.
    Back in the Batcave, however, I was sitting in my chair twirling pencils around in my hair.  I think at that point I was up to five.  Oh, the things we do when we can't focus!
    The sound of the two of them debating pre-algebra could just be heard over the load of laundry in the machine.  I could definitely get used to this.  Goddess of Domesticity, I was not.  Cooking wasn't too bad, but when it came to everything else, I had to force myself.  Never let it be said that Grace Murphy would have survived a career as a maid.
    A new pencil was in my fingertips, tapping against my bottom lip as I stared at the screen.  Rosalinda was in need of some hot and sweaty sex and I couldn’t figure out how to get there without Mitchell throwing her down on a dusty road.
    Who knew, Rosalinda could have enjoyed dirty road sex, but I was guessing that my readers wouldn’t. When one is close to virgin status, it’s hard to remember what seduction is like. To be honest, there hadn’t been a man in months who even gave me the tingle to write hot and sweaty sex scenes.
    The pencil smacked against my lip so hard that it made my eyes sting at the realization of this obvious lie. Ok, so I had met someone who made me tingly. I swore and rubbed the offended flesh.
    He wasn’t legendary for being the most beautiful man in the world for nothing. The boy was hot with a capital H. I could feel my pulse race just thinking about his tight ass as he had trudged in front of me on our walk today.
    “I’m not a piece of meat, Grace!” he called from the living room.                                                             
    My face burned so hot that I thought it was going to catch on fire.  It was extremely annoying that he could read my mind.
    When I'd asked, he'd explained that the Gift had come in this form because he'd always wondered if any woman could ever love him for anything other than his beauty.
    I’d rolled my eyes at him and asked, “What are you some kind of girl?”
    He’d scowled in reply and that was the last I’d heard of the Gifts. Admittedly I had spent more time than I would