Page 18 of Jacob Michaels is Not Crazy

“Fuck you?” I scrunched up my face.

“Did that not sound right?” He asked way too innocently. “I mean, we weren’t making love, so fucking is the right term, right?”

I glared at him.

“You don’t love me, Rob.” He smiled sweetly. “You couldn’t’ possibly have made love to me. You fucked me.”

He wasn’t angry or even upset. He was taunting. It was so enticing. I wanted to have my way with him again. And again. And…well, lots of times.

“Maybe I’m not in love with you.” I relented. “And maybe that’s a ‘not yet’ situation. I’ll give you that. But I’m not fucking you either. I do care about you. Okay?”

“Okay.” He shrugged nonchalantly, flipping potatoes.

“I mean that.”

“Okay.”

“Say ‘okay’ one more time,” I growled playfully. “I dare you.”

“What are you going to do?” He sucked at his teeth. “Fuck me some more?”

“You’re asking for it.”

“If you play your cards right, I might beg for it.” He grinned so evilly that my stomach didn’t care about food suddenly.

“I hate you.” I laughed.

“No.” Lucas moved so that he could lean over the counter and kissed me on the lips quickly. “You definitely don’t hate me. Do you want salsa for your hash browns?”

I reached up to run my fingers through his hair.

“Vegetarians have something against cheese on potatoes?”

“Absolutely not.” He kissed me again.

Then he was rooting around in the fridge and I was admiring his backside as he was bent over, fulfilling another one of my wishes.