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“Then don’t.” He nuzzled my hair. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too.” Jack flashed into my head. It was wrong of me, but I couldn’t lie. Not to Patrick or myself. Because this last week Patrick hadn’t been around had been too quiet. I missed both the chaos and the peace he brought.
“How’s the nausea?”
“Comes and goes. The crackers help.”
“I read ginger tea works. I ordered some. Should be delivered today.”
“Why would you do that?” Damn if my eyes didn’t sting.
“I don’t like you being miserable.”
“I don’t know any other way to be.”
“You do. When you’re with Blake.” He nipped my ear. “Sometimes when you’re with me.”
We’d been communicating through a lawyer. Ugly words had been spoken. Yet somehow we always ended up on the floor, together, like we were a team. He shouldn’t have just let the past few days go. But he had.
“Make-up sex on the desk?” I heated at the fantasy.
“Have we made up?”
“Does it seem like we have?”
“Temporary truce?”
“Can you stop talking?”
“You want action?”
I shifted until I straddled him. “Why are you wearing a tie on Saturday?”
“Wishful thinking that you’d drop by and I’d find a good use for it.”
“Like what?”
I loosened the silk knot and pulled the garment free. He took it from my hand, tied one end around my wrist and the other around his. “You thought I’d gag you?”
“If I were you, I would.”
A smirk teased the corner of his mouth. “Most of the time, I like hearing you spout off.”
“You do?”
“Is it weird that I get hard when you say some of the things you do?”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Yes. It’s awful.”
“I can’t help it.” He rubbed my center against his erection.
“I mean some of the things I say.”
“Your words have sharp claws.” He dove his fingers into my hair. “But I can handle it.”
“I’m sorry about what I said last night.”
His brows shot up. And then he kissed me. “You’re forgiven.”
