“Are you in a mood again?” She raises a brow. “Look, I’m tanning. Can you move your lecture to later?”
“Cover up,” I warn.
“Me?” She scoffs. “You’re the one who’s half-naked.”
“Yeah,” I say, crossing my arms, “but I’m not the one my gardener was staring at.”
“Oh? I didn’t even notice him.” She smiles again.
The sound that slips out of me is a low rumble.
“He definitely noticed you,” I say.
Her eyes glint. “I was just tanning.”
“Naked.” I raise a brow.
“I don’t like tan lines.” She shrugs, lazy and provocative.
Her fingers pinch my shirt again and she starts lifting it off. I lean down and grab her wrist, stopping her.
“I don’t want you shirtless outside.”
Her lips part, a small involuntary sound escaping.
“Do you want me shirtless inside?” she whispers.
Fuck.
My cock jumps. She wants this fight.
She tilts her head, hair spilling over her shoulder, eyes locked on mine like she’s daring me to do more.
“Or,” she says sweetly, “you can let me finish my tan.”
“So you can continue with your show?” I release her wrist. “Cover the fuck up.”
Her chin lifts in defiance.
“You know,” she says casually, “you’ve barely talked to me these past two days. Who knew all it took to get your attention was taking my top off?”
My brows dip together. She’s the one who’s been avoiding me, not the other way around.
I drop my gaze and do a slow sweep along the curve of her body under my shirt.
“If I gave you the attention you’re asking for,” I say quietly, “you wouldn’t be able to walk back inside on your own.”
The smugness evaporates from her face as she sucks in a breath.
“Oh, how romantic, Captain.” she says quietly. “But maybe you should wait until the cameras start rolling?”
I take a slow breath through my nose.
She hums, almost innocent, and shifts again. The fabric moves enough to expose the faintest hint of the swell of her breast, soft and golden in the sun.
My cock jumps, yet my face stays stoic. I take the sight she’s offering, savor it for a moment, then slowly lift my eyes to hers.
“Put your top back on.”
