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"Be nice," he says.
I smirk. I was very nice to her just now, even if she wasn’t fully aware of my part in her most recent orgasm.
I walk back to the bed. She’s still covering her face.
"Suddenly shy?" I slide between the sheets, naked, on the far side of the mattress from her. My side.
It's no coincidence that we fucked her on the side of the enormous California king that I don't sleep on. This is how it goes. When we bring women here, we use my room. And then Alexsei curls up in the middle, with the woman on the outside. On the side I don’t sleep on.
Luna pulls her arm away from her face. "No. Just trying to get my bearings back."
I don't say anything to that. Alexsei has that effect on women. I fluff my pillow behind my head and let my eyes slide shut.
Alexsei is the aftercare guy. The cuddler. The want to stay over? guy.
Besides, we've already established she's staying. And making pancakes.
Wait, we did establish that, right?
I roll my head to look at her. "I like lots of chocolate chips in mine."
She looks over at me from where she’s still lying, spread out, and bare naked.
She lifts a brow. "Me, too."
"Good. Then you should make pretty good ones."
"Everything I make is good."
Sassy confidence. I can't help it, I like it.
Oh, it's a pain in the ass. I don't want it around a lot. But I admire it.
"You know,” I say, closing my eyes again. “People who really are good at everything don’t feel the need to tell people they’re good at everything.”
I hear her breathy little laugh. “Wow, you really excel at being an asshole."
“And I’m also beautiful,” I say, making sure she hears the smugness in my tone.
“And grumpy,” she says, emphatically.
Yet, I can hear the fucking smile in her voice.
She doesn’t deny the beautiful thing, though. And I don’t deny the asshole thing.
And we both know she kind of likes me. Or at least me spanking her. Just like I kind of like her. Or at least spanking her.
Fuck, I’m going to keep thinking about that, aren’t I?
"We have all the ingredients for pancakes from scratch,” I say. Then yawn. On purpose. “If you think you’re going to get away with using a mix, you're crazy."
“What happens if I do?” she asks. Because it seems she can’t help sassing me.
“Well, I’d say I’d spank you, but we both know you’d like that.”
She doesn't say anything to that. But I'm imagining I got an eye roll. Possibly a middle finger.
In fact, I'd be disappointed if I didn’t get one of those. Or both.
