“Like I said, I’m constantly hard around you. It’ll go down.”
Stretching like a kitten, she slides that sexy as fuck body against mine.
I groan deeply, gripping my cock. Fuck me. She feels good.
“I need to get out of this bed right this fucking minute.”
When I flip back the blankets and she squeals.
“Cold. That was rude.”
It makes me insanely happy that she wants to stay in bed next to my warmth. My goal is to have her addicted. But we got problems to deal with.
“Let’s go, sunshine. We got people to see and the mob to get rid of.”
“How’s a girl supposed to resist that?”
She gives me a sassy little eye roll as she pushes her hair back over her shoulder, tempting me to shove my fingers into it.
I tug her up from the bed and set her on her feet. Once I know she’s steady, I get the hell way before I do something we don’t have time for.
“Here’s a shirt.” I toss a black Kings of Darkness T-shirt to her as I head to the bathroom.
When I come back she’s holding it up, raising her eyebrows. “Well… It’s pretty long, but I should have pants. Otherwise someone might see that I don’t have panties on.”
That stops me cold, my eyes snapping to her. “We’ve got to get your things sorted. Try these on.”
Laughing, she holds the sweats I toss her.
“Skull,” she says, shaking her head. “These are HUGE.”
“Gym shorts?”
“They’ll be huge too. Look at you. Look at me.”
This isn’t going well. Muttering a curse, I grab my cell phone off the night stand. “Hold on.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Skull dresses in his standard clothing. Jeans. Black shirt. Leather cut. He explained it’s not vest, it’s a cut.
When he’s done, he paces by the door until someone knocks. I don’t know who delivers the clothes but they brought me a cute pair of jeans that smell like fresh line-dried laundry. In the grocery bag is also a pair of panties with the tags on.
I grin like a fool.
“Look! Panties.”
Skull stalks toward me. “Let me see those.”
I shriek and dash past him to the bathroom. “Oh no. I’m not letting you near them. Who knows what you’ll do to them.”
He’s standing in the middle of his living room with his arms crossed when I finish dressing. “Turn around.”
“Jesus. Bossy,” I half-grumble.
He lifts a brow. “You don’t even know.”
I spin, my spine tingling with warmth from his blatantly sexual inspection. “Satisfied?”
