“Last night.” He sighs and rubs his right hands up and down the back of his head. “I suppose I was giving you space. Trying not to come on too strong.”
“You might’ve said.”
“You might’ve said you were unhappy,” he says, looking the opposite of that state. “You were the one who said you wanted to date other men. Maybe my sensitive little feelings were tweaked.” He reaches out and pinches my nose gently.
This is so strange. How have we gone from growly denials and sex that feels like he’s trying to imprint on me—or at least imprint the shape and sensation of his penis in me—to this? To flippancy. But before I have a chance to pull away in protest, his thumb slips to my bottom lip.
“I thought you would’ve understood.” His eyes turn golden as he lowers his head, meeting mine. “You have a standing invitation to my bedroom.”
“I didn’t want to presume,” I whisper, breathing in the scent of him.
“Oh, Mimi.” His thumb drifts away, his lips brushing mine. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” I say, twisting my mouth from under his.
He pulls back with an amused chuckle. “You know, if I looked up unsubtle in a dictionary, I’m sure I’d see your picture there—”
“Is that supposed to be flattering? I say, speaking louder and over the top of him. “Is that how you woo women?”
“You’ve been the absolute opposite of subtle since you whirled yourself into my life. Happy or not, horny or not, I assumed you’d be sure to tell me where you were on those scales. Whenever you were on those scales.”
“How about cuddly?” I ask a little aggressively. “Am I allowed to demand affection?” Maybe I’m trying to frighten him off.
“Why the fuck not?” he says, leaning his weight onto his hip. “Have I missed something?”
“No.” I tilt my chin, my reply prickly. “I’m just checking.”
“Are you feeling cuddly right now?” His expression? It says quite clearly;you know you want me—want it. I mean, you know you want a hug.And dammit, I do.
“I might be,” I answer, slightly mollified.
“Bring it in.” He straightens, curling his finger in acome-hithermotion.
I duck my head to hide my smile, knot my hand in the waistband of his pants and hop down from my stool. My happiness is easier to hide as he wraps his arms around me. My insides turn to goo at the low “hmmm” he makes as I bury my nose in his T-shirt.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“You have a very vivid imagination, Leif Whittington.”
“That’s true. However, you’ll have a very red bottom if we have to undergo anything like this again. His finger slides between us, lifting my chin to reveal myI’d like to see you try it, buster,face. “If you’re unhappy, you say so.”
“I’m pretty unhappy about being threatened.” My hands fasten around his forearm.
“It’s not a threat.”
“Oh, so it’s a promise? Youpromiseyou’ll spank me?” A derisive noise shoots from the back of my throat as I push his arm away.
“I promise you won’t always feel this way about it.”
“Ah!” The sound is short and sharp. “Right.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“See, you’re still making it sound like you think there’s a spanking in my future.”
He grins though tries to rub it away, but it’s too stubborn. “If I’m honest, I’m counting on it.”
“Lord knows why.”
