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“You’re so twisted,” I murmured.
“Is that your way of telling me that you don’t believe you’re amazingly sexy?” he asked huskily.
I opened one eye to look at him. “Probably.”
I squeaked as I found myself flat on my back, with Dylan’s handsome face above me as he said, “Since you’re definitely going to hear me tell you how attractive you are in some form or another every single day, maybe we could find an alternative response. I suppose you could say nothing at all, which is acceptable and preferable to the insults. You could also just say ‘thank you, Dylan’ and leave it at that. You could smile at me, but that would probably just lead to me telling you how beautiful you are all over again—”
I put a finger to his lips to stop him. “I told you I suck at this. How about I just tell you how amazingly handsome you are and ask you to fuck me?”
He grinned down at me. “I think that would probably be my favorite response, but you might get tired of being in the bedroom.”
“I’m already here right now,” I reminded him.
“Then let’s think about better responses later,” he suggested.
“Fuck me, Dylan,” I whispered in a sultry voice that I didn’t know I had.
“Much later,” he said hastily, right before he lowered his head to kiss me.
