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“You call me Mr. MacIntyre one more time, and you’re going to wish you were.”
“Oh, for heavens sake!” She threw up her hands before slamming them down on her hips. “What possible objection can you have to being called Mr. MacIntyre?”
“Plenty. I’m your husband.”
“And I’m your wife.” She bet he used that frown to scare people. Well, not her. “It’s a sign of respect for me to refer to you as Mister.”
His right brow took wing, landing somewhere in his hairline. “Who in hell told you that?”
“All proper—”
“Is that another one of those idiotic rules you learned at that da—darned school?”
“It’s not an idiotic school.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Let’s get something straight! I don’t care what you learned in that fancy school. I don’t want a wife who walks around trussed up tighter than a Christmas goose, who wears more clothes to bed than she wears around the house, and I definitely don’t want a wife who calls me Mr. Anything!”
When he was done shouting, she was right in his face, matching him yell for yell. “Well, what do you want me to call you?”
“How about honey, or sweetheart, or hey, here’s a thought…” He pushed his face in hers. “What the hell is wrong with Asa?”
On that note, he shoved past her and slammed out the door.
Elizabeth stared at the closed door. “Nothing’s wrong with Asa. I just find jackass preferable.”
The door flew open so quickly, she dreaded he might have been listening. From the set of his shoulders, she guessed the few seconds of fresh air hadn’t improved his mood. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“This.”
He stepped into the room, bringing the fresh scent of morning with him. Beneath his hat, his storm cloud eyes glittered with emotion. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She searched the small kitchen for a weapon. Unfortunately, in order to secure a pot or knife, she’d have to come within his reach. Where was her brain this morning, angering a man to the point she’d needled Asa? If she wanted to be so stupid, the least she could have done was to arm herself while she was at it.
He stopped when they were toe to toe. Her feet betrayed her resolution to show no fear. She took a step back. Asa took a step forward. Her rear collided with the kitchen table. His hand reached out. She closed her eyes and braced for the blow.
It was the longest time coming. In the eternity in which she waited for his fist to make contact, his scent surrounded her. The heat of his body scorched her nerve endings. His chest brushed against hers. The briefest of contacts and then nothing. No pain, no bruises. Just nothing. She opened her eyes.
“I forgot my lunch.”
“Oh.” For the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She felt her heart pounding. No doubt her pulse was visible in her throat.
“I forgot something else.” Slow and easy, his drawl made a mockery of the fear that parched her throat.
“What?”
He shifted the sack containing his lunch to his left hand. His right came up to slide slowly around the back of her neck. His smile was as lazy as his drawl. “I forgot my goodbye kiss.”
“Oh.”
He tugged and she went. His thumb tipped up her chin. His head came down. She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers. There was none of the force she expected. No probing with his tongue. There was just the sweet, light rubbing of his lips on hers. He eased back. Disappointment at the separation tripped over her defenses. Opening her eyes, she looked into his. His gaze was intent. His thumb pulled her lower lip free of her teeth and slid across the moist interior. “You want to kiss me back?”
Did she? She slid her arms around his neck as her breasts swelled and plumped in anticipation. “Yes.”
His thumb slipped into her mouth. Her lips closed reflexively around it. His groan vibrated against her hardened nipples. His eyes were glued to the sight of her lips wrapped around his thumb. “Damn, I love your mouth.”
“You said that before.”
He smiled, moving his thumb in and out of her mouth, sending tingles down her spine. “You’ll probably hear it a time or two more.”
She caught his thumb with her teeth. Holding his gaze, she sucked lightly on the salty flesh.
“Damn!” There was a soft thump as his lunch hit the floor.
He didn’t look mad anymore. Elizabeth couldn’t contain her smile as she swirled her tongue around the rough pad. It wasn’t her imagination that he jerked against her.
“Jesus! Do that to my cock and I’ll be your slave for life.”
Two things hit her at once. Shock at his wording and satisfaction on finally knowing what men called their things.
