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His startled laugh broke free. Maybe she was more ready than he was giving her credit for. “Anything you want, kitten. I’m game.”
“I’ve played poker before, but never strip poker.”
Even better, since he selfishly and possessively wanted to be the only one to teach her all the fun things she’d missed out on in life. “Are you any good? Because I’m really hoping you stink at it.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
She laughed. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
His gut reaction was to tease her about it, but yesterday’s nice Jewish girl comment had backfired on him and upset her, so he took it in a different direction. “That sounds like a challenge, babe, and if there’s one thing you should know about the kind of man I am? It’s that I love a good challenge.”
She flashed a grin at him, a sexy one that made his dick pay attention. “Thanks for the warning.” In the small kitchen, she rifled through the fridge and pulled out a wrapped casserole dish. “How does lasagna sound?”
He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her close. He bit her earlobe, then licked a path down her neck to the sweet spot on her shoulder. “Sounds good. I have stuff for salad, too. And wine.” He clamped his teeth against her neck even as he cupped her breasts with his hands, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs.
She twisted in his arms and set the lasagna down on the adjacent counter with a thunk. Her face was pink and her eyes were bright, and he spun her so her back was to the counter and she was face-to-face with him.
“Hi there.”
“Hey.” She looked up at him, cocked her head. “You’re a toucher, aren’t you?”
He hadn’t really thought about it. “Yeah, I guess so. Why? Does it bother you?”
A shadow passed through her eyes. “Not at all.”
“But Sam wasn’t.”
She shook her head and lifted a shoulder. “He thought it was inappropriate.”
He couldn’t help himself, even though he risked having Becca clam up. “Even in private? I know a lot of people who don’t get into any public displays of affection, but in private it’s different.”
“Yeah. Even then. But he wasn’t always like that. We did the usual hand-holding thing when we were dating, and the occasional kiss out in public. Near the end of our marriage, though, he didn’t like to touch me at all.” Her face reddened. ?
?Except in bed.”
Fuck that. He tucked his hands in the waistband of her jeans, against her back, his fingers grazing the cleft between her cheeks. “I like to touch. And lick, and kiss, and bite. There’s nowhere I won’t touch you, kitten. Count on it.” He leaned forward and captured her mouth in a sweet, light kiss. At the same time, he squeezed his fingers, wringing a moan from her throat. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
He let her go and stepped back, giving her room.
She turned on the oven and set the lasagna inside to heat.
“How long will that take?”
She wrinkled her nose and cast a doubtful look at the ancient stove. “About half an hour, I’d say, if the oven works well. We’ll check it in about twenty minutes.”
He watched as she set the timer. “Great. In that case, let’s check out the bed.”
Chapter Eight
Becca’s gaze flew to Jeremy’s grinning face. She wasn’t used to this much joking around with a man. Sam had been studious and serious when she’d met him, two things that had drawn her to him. She’d been like that too, working hard to get her teaching degree, and he’d been just as busy with law school, determined to make the most of it. His work ethic had been so much more attractive to her than the never-ending partying some of the guys at school had done. He’d been attentive, too, in an understated way, and she’d been charmed. He’d been exactly what she’d thought she’d wanted in a husband.
Jeremy had his serious side. She’d seen it in action during their ride-alongs, and she’d seen it last night. But he also had a fun side, and she saw that in his touching and his teasing. He was teasing now.
Maybe.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the far side of the cabin.
Maybe not.
