She pauses, her eyebrows pulling together. “What are you talking about, Titus?”
Hearing my name on her lips is like a punch to the chest. Again. It’s like that every time. I’m not sure there will ever be a time when it doesn’t hit me.
“Ezra,” my voice drops an octave, “I’m not the kind of man to offer a woman a family and not provide a home that’s more than the room at the clubhouse.”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out.
Not at first.
“It would clearly be a horrible insult if someone were to think such a thing about you,” she sasses.
“It really would be,” I assure her.
“A house would be ideal,” her tone is coy with a hint of slyness that makes my cock throb. “That means I wouldn’t have to choose and that is my favorite trope.”
When she chuckles, more to herself than me, my eyes narrow.
“I feel like I’ve heard Opal say something like that before. Is this some sort of book porn thing?”
She snorts out a laugh. “Is that porn involving books, like books fucking or is that porn in book form?”
“You think you’re cute,” there’s an accusation in my words, but there’s no real heat behind them.
She bats her eyelashes and my composure cracks as I smile. I nuzzle my face in her neck and pepper her delicate skin with kisses.
“You are pretty fucking cute, Teach,” I whisper against her skin.
The way she shivers in my arms is intoxicating. I want to make her do it again and again.
“After we pack up in here, are you going to pack clothes? If you put me in charge of packing your panties, you won’t be disappointed,” I promise, my lips brushing against her skin with my words.
“You probably wouldn’t pack any of them, leaving them behind for me to find out about them being abandoned later,” she grouses.
My chuckle slips across her collarbone before I kiss her there. “How’d you figure me out so quickly?”
I feel something inside of her give before her arms wrap around my torso. Her fingers grip my shoulders as if she’s not sure whether her knees can hold her up any longer.
“I don’t think you’re quite as difficult to read in this situation as you think, Prez,” her words are breathy, each one wrapped up with a plea.
It takes all of my willpower not to strip her and fuck her.
I want to slide inside of her so fucking badly.
How the fuck did this woman become something I crave with a carnality that shocks even myself? When did I become fucking addicted?
“Very tempting,” I rasp the words.
When my hands find her hips, I hold her steady and upright as I force myself to take a step back. Ezra’s blue eyes blink up at me, and I watch in real time as the lust fog clears.
I hate it.
I much prefer her eyes glazed over with pleasure and need.
If only we didn’t need to keep it moving.
I watch her diligently pack up two more plastic tubs of craft supplies before she gives a nod and then brushes her hands against each other like she’s all done or something.
“Clothes?”
