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A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. She crosses her arms over her chest, nose pointing toward the ceiling. “I happen to like Lucky Charms.”
I snort. “Clearly. Marshmallows for breakfast. Breakfast of champions, is it?”
She narrows her eyes then pouts, tugging at her top. “I’m not dressed for a candlelit dinner.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not going to be dressed for all that long anyway. In fact, if you’re more comfortable, you can go ahead and strip down now.”
Her jaw drops. Then she reaches out and smacks my shoulder.
“Ow! Hey! No hitting!”
I drop the wooden spoon I’m pushing the chicken around with and grab for her waist. She ducks away just in time, but her legs aren’t long enough to let her take more than two steps before I wind an arm around her middle and drag her back to me.
Trapping her against my chest, I drop my lips to her ear. “I know you like it rough, Claire,” I murmur against her skin, “but I had planned on getting through dinner before I threw you around. Your choice, though.”
She shivers and wiggles against me, puffing out a breath. “You’re such an arrogant ass.”
“You love it.”
“Cocky.”
“You mean confident.”
“Self-righteous.”
“Know what I’m good at.”
Claire makes a sound that can only be described as inhuman before she growls out, “I hate that I don’t hate you,” flipping around in my arms. She shoves me back against the counter and pulls my face down to hers, devouring my mouth.
“You’re so pushy,” I say against her lips, grinding her hips into mine.
“I’m pushy?” She climbs up my body like she’s climbing a damn tree, pushing down on my shoulders. I lift her ass, letting her wrap her legs around me. “You’re a bossy, domineering egomaniac who expects everybody to do what you say, when you say it, without questioning it.”
“You’re damn right, Claire.” I nip her bottom lip and drop her to her feet. “Now take off your clothes and bend over the couch.”
I watch with a wicked grin as she immediately drops her shorts—not wearing any panties, how lovely—and reaches for the hem of her top, too. She catches the expression on my face, realizes what she’s doing, and stops.
“Oh, you ass.” She backs away from me, shaking her finger. “Oh, no. Nuh-uh. I’m not doing anything you say.”
“You can and you will.” I flip the stove top off and shift the pans off the heating element before stalking toward her, because, safety first. “You know you want to, or else you wouldn’t already be half-naked. I bet you’re already soaked and ready for me.”
“N-no.” The way she stutters tells me I’m right.
Her calves hit the couch and she topples backwards, legs in the air. I follow, sinking to my knees on the leather, crawling toward her while she does the crab walk toward the other end of the couch. I grab her ankles and drag her to me.
“Open,” I order. She does, knees falling to the sides. I smirk up at her.
She gasps and clamps her legs shut. “Stop it! You’re getting in my head and you’re not allowed to be there!”
Prying her legs open all too easily, I tell her, “I think you would allow me anywhere.”
A shudder shakes her entire body and a tiny moan pushes past her full lips.
“Are you wet for me, Claire? From our little make-out session just now? From us arguing? From me telling you what to do?”
Her chest rises and falls too quickly. “No.”
“No? Really? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
