I laughed, loving his ability to make me forget my concerns. My fears. “You tell me. What do you have planned for me, Mr. Pruitt?”
“First of all—” He gripped my wrists. “Don’t call me Mr. Pruitt. It reminds me of my father.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
“And second, I’m not one of those billionaires who has a red room of pain or whatever.” He released me, and I ran my hands over his chest. His incredibly firm chest.
I laughed, amused by the fact that he’d referencedFifty Shades of Grey.
“Yeah.” I tapped a finger to my lips. “I don’t remember you asking for that when we discussed your goals for the house.”
“Is it too late to add one?” he asked. “Do you think the editors atCasa Beautifulwould approve?”
My shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“Maybe that’s the secret you need to win,” he continued. “I bet readers would love to see a sex room.” His expression was animated, his eyes sparkling.
“Oh my god.” I laughed. “You have to stop.”
“Why would I stop?” He placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer. “You light up the room when you smile.”
I stilled at his words, at the way he was looking at me.
“Your smile is fucking gorgeous. And watching you laugh…” He shook his head. “Sexy as hell.”
I dipped my head, unprepared for such a genuine compliment. I was used to having men tell me I was sexy or hot, but usually it was when they were looking at my breasts or ass. Not talking about my smile.
And that was exactly why we needed rules. Because Hunter was slowly demolishing my carefully constructed walls, just like I did in many of the homes I decorated. But my heart was fine as it was—it didn’t need to be redesigned.
