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His right eyebrow quirked. “We?”
“Don’t get too excited,” I said, pushing up to my feet. “I’m only helping because I was promised an orgasm and I refuse to have sex with you like this.”
“I’m more than just a piece of meat, Sanchez.” His dimples were trying their best to stay hidden, bless their dark little souls.
“Mmmkay.”
I plopped down beside him on the bed, fished out my phone, and typedGargomel'sguide to turning Smurfs into goldinto the search bar, but the phone was snatched out of my hand before I could hit Enter. And thus began the wrestling match.
“You’re the one that said you’re more than just a piece of meat!” I exclaimed when my wrists were pinned to the mattress. “I’m just trying to help you reach your full poten— Don’t you dare kiss me right now, Adrien Cloutier.Don’t you dare. You’re going to get your stupid blue all over my mouphnmnm.”
We made our way downstairs fifteen minutes later, Adrien with his proud shoulders pushed back and a cocky smirk toying at his mouth, while I rubbed at my kiss-swollen lips with a makeup wipe.
Alice rolled her eyes when she saw us, then proceeded to haul herself off the couch to go find her spray bottle.
30
Once again,coconut oil had proven to be the magical cure-all for literally everything.
It took three hours, six full sets of cotton pads, and half a jar of the organic coconut oil we’d found in the pantry, but we were almost done. His arms, hands, neck, and the lower half of his face were all back to their normal color, and I was slowly working my way up his face while he simply watched. Because he’d decided halfway through the process that he enjoyed being pampered way too much to continue helping.
There were a few other things that had slowed us down. Number one, you had to really work the oil into the skin for it to be effective. Two, there was a lot of paint, so you had to go over each little section multiple times, with multiple fresh pads. And three, Adrien and I could not stop talking and giggling about the dumbest shit.
Had we just shut up and focused, we’d have been able to get it all done in less than two hours, and moved on to the only reason I was still here: the hostage situation. But we couldn’t seem to shut up. Even though it was slowing us down, and my cheeks were sore, and my butt was hurting from sitting on the floor for way too long.
And we were so caught up in invading each other’s personal bubbles, with our legs tangled and our laughter mingling, that we accidentally lost track of time. Those initial three hours turned to four, then five, and half his face was still blue.
Every time I instructed him to close his damn eyes so I could clean them, he’d shut them for a few seconds before slighting one open to peek at me. And then we’d fall into another banter-giggle trap.
It also didn’t help that he had an index finger hooked through one of my belt loops, or that his other hand was curved around the side of my thigh. And it really didn’t help that he kept caressing me, his soft gaze constantly traveling from my eyes down to my mouth like he couldn’t decide which one he liked looking at better.
“Adrien, if you don’t close your eyes, we’re going to be here all night,” I told him once I was (finally) done with his forehead.
“Okay,” he said, keeping them wide open. That playful little smirk of his was going to be the absolute end of me.
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
“I’m taking it as one.”
It took another fifteen minutes of bickering, but he finally complied, and I managed to wipe away the remaining paint. It also gave me an opportunity to look at his annoyingly attractive face without being teased about it.
Or so I thought.
“You’re staring again, Sanchez,” he said, his gorgeous lips curving into an infuriating smirk. His eyes were still closed.
I tossed the last dirty cotton pad into the trash. “All right, you’re done. Go shower.”
We had a hostage situation to take care of and I was running out of patience.
He chuckled, rubbing his palms against his eyes as he stood up. “Yes, ma’am.”
I bit down on my own grin and began cleaning up the mess we’d created. Once I was done, I looked to see if there were any flights heading to Toronto in the morning.
I needed to go back at some point, and preferably before the big anniversary party. Because I wasn’t all that keen on being used as a tool to make Adrien’s ex jealous. And I really didn’t want to be there when they made up, after she inevitably realized how big of a mistake she was making marrying that other chump.
There was a flight at ten-thirty tomorrow, which was perfect. My thumb hovered over the booking button as my eyes scanned the information one last time, just to make sure it was all correct.
It was.
