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Unacceptable. Completely unhinged.
“Well then. Chop, chop. Make me a snack, bodyguard man. That’s what you’re here for right?”
I smirk at him and slap his ass, a moan escaping him as I do it.
Hmph, need to get my act together now. I can’t go around smacking his round, perky ass whenever I feel like it.
And he seems to think the same thing because he glowers at me, swallowing roughly as he does.
“No more touching, Skylar.”
“I know,” I huff, my shoulders falling slightly.
Goddamn, but it’s hard to do as I’m told.
“If you could be a little less bratty…”
“Fuck no,” he chuckles and then smirks at me, and fuck, do I want to do things to him. Right now, against the counter.
But I don’t. Of course I don’t. I have the willpower of a saint. I’m basically Jesus at this point. My little devil is tempting me, but I will say hell no.
I will ascend.
I am Skylar.
This moment is perfect, whole, and complete.
I can do it. I know I can.
* * *
I sink straight into the depths of hell later that night, my brain slightly fuzzy from sleep, my limbs not quite working. When I heard the clatter in the other room, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was three in the morning.What the hell was Diablo doing?I thought as I lumbered out of my bedroom.
Rubbing at my face, I take in the sight before me. Diablo is on the counter, his ass clad only in a tiny pair of blue boxer briefs, his body stretching upwards, his hands reaching up for the rope I had stowed securely above the cabinets.
He’s a determined little shit, I’ll give him that.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice low and yet it still booms around the kitchen.
Diablo stumbles, holding on to the cabinet as I stalk toward him, placing my hands on the backs of his thighs to steady him. My fingers dig into the lean muscle there, and I squeeze.
“Why are you sneaking around in the middle of the night? Shouldn’t you be in bed, old man?” he snarks, and I press my face into the small of his back, inhaling the scent of him. He smells like soap, fresh and crisp. Nothing at all like I thought he would smell like when I first met him. I thought his scent would consist of Cheetos and day-old coffee.
But I was very wrong.
My wayward thoughts and the fact that my nose is sliding up his skin…well, I blame it on delirium. I’m so goddamn tired.
“I heard a noise. Come to find out, it was you moaning while trying to get the rope.”
He snorts. “I do not moan over ropes.”
My hands slide up his thighs and cup his butt cheeks. Nice handfuls. Very small and pliable. They bounce nicely when I smack them too.
“What are you doing?” he asks breathlessly as I run my nose over the bumps of his spine.
“Nothing,” I murmur and then reach around him, sliding my hands up his chest. “Would you like me to get the rope down for you? You’re still too short to reach it. What were you going to use it for?”
“Nothing important.”
