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"I don’t doubt that."
"I mean it. I trained in self-defence. And I can bite. Hard."Lies. All lies.
"I’d probably like that," he says and his smirk grows.
"You like people biting you? Why would you like…" Dylan arches an eyebrow. “Omigod! Why the hell would someone want to bite…?"
Ah, crap. I walked into that one because he’s brought out his smoulder face again. "I’m not going to touch you, Sky. I don’t need to force myself on women."
"Why? Do they throw themselves at you?"
"What do you think?"
I place my glass down. "I think…" What do I think? I should probably keep my drunk mouth shut. "I have a lot of things I think about you, but you might not like them."
"Such as? I’m sure I can take it." Dylan crosses his arms.
"Such as, I think you’re a good-looking guy who knows how to use that to get his own way. Am I right?" I tip my head.
"Yeah, I normally get my own way."
"Then, you need to spend time with people who put you in your place."
"Like you?"
"No, I doubt we’d get along because I’d bet you don’t know how to deal with women unless you’re smouldering at them with those big blue eyes until they’re helplessly overwhelmed by your presence." I push my tongue against my top teeth. "I don’t think you’d know how to cope with a woman like me."
Dylan drops the subject and grows quiet. This time the broody look doesn’t appear aimed at me, and I’m a heartbeat away from asking Dylan what he’s thinking about. I blow air into my cheeks. Probably best that I don’t know, otherwise I might run from the house.
Sky Davis, what are you doing?
