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The curl of his lips was slow and sinful, but he just asked, “What brought you here anyway?”
From the way Diggs’ fingers stopped their movements and his eyes were slightly narrowed when I focused on him again, he absolutely felt the way I’d gone still at the question—at the harrowing images that flooded my mind from it.
“Needed to get away,” I answered vaguely but truthfully. “Needed somewhere new.”
“And you chose here?”
“My turn,” I countered, then rolled my eyes and conceded, “But, yes. I put in for jobs in a handful of towns and was hired here first. My turn.”
His chin lifted. “Is that what we’re doing?” he asked, a gentle tease prodding each word when he continued. “Taking turns asking questions?”
“Yes,” I said, lightly smacking at his chest and earning a rough laugh that had chills sweeping across my skin in a heady way. “And you’ve already asked a few, so hush.”
He lifted his hand in surrender, then resumed his feather-soft pattern as he waited for me to go on.
“How do you get into my apartment?”
“Next question,” he said without hesitation.
My mouth fell open. “What—no! You have to answer that.”
“There are rules to this now?” he shot back, but that smirk was now a wide grin that had me smiling back at him. When he continued, he shrugged and sighed like he already knew I wouldn’t like his answer. “I have a lot of talents, and getting into places is one of them.”
“So, this is a common occurrence for you.” I tried phrasing it as a question, but it came out as a doubtful statement.
“This?” he asked, gesturing between the two of us. “There isn’t one damn thing about this that’s common for me.”
I felt my pulse go wild at the confession but managed to keep my tone composed when I said, “So, these other places...”
“Isn’t it my turn?” He playfully narrowed his eyes at me, waiting until I held out a hand in silent acknowledgment. “How do you feel about sandwiches?”
A short, bemused laugh left me at the drastic change. “How do we go from your ability to break into places to sandwiches?”
“Easily,” Diggs said as if he couldn’t figure out how I didn’t see the connection.
“You realize one has literally nothing to do with the other.”
“Food has to do with everything,” he countered seriously, and I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from laughing.
“Right, uh...” I began, my head bobbing as I finally answered, “I like sandwiches. They’re actually my go-to.” Dropping my voice to a teasing whisper, I asked, “Do you break into sandwich shops?”
Amusement touched the corner of his mouth. But just as No started leaving him, Diggs’ eyes widened and his expression filled with wonder. “Shit, why haven’t I ever thought of that?”
A laugh burst from him when I smacked his chest, and wings took flight in my stomach when he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. Settling against the pillows and easily guiding me so I was partially lying on his toned chest and stomach, our legs entangled and faces just inches apart.
When a contented sigh left him, and the hand at my back gripped harder in a silent but powerful claim, I asked, “Do you really break into places?”
His eyebrows lifted before he glanced around my room as if in response.
“Places other than my apartment,” I amended patiently, even though it felt like I was struggling to breathe as I waited for his answer. As I waited to learn more about this man I hardly knew, and yet, something inside me screamed I knew the parts of him that mattered.
Because I knew the way he held me. I knew the way he continued coming back to me as if he couldn’t stand to be away. I knew the way he worshiped me. I knew the way his eyes devoured me as if I might disappear. As if he was afraid I would.
I knew the way every part of me craved every part of him.
“I haven’t for a long time,” he finally said. “But there were plenty of times and situations where it was called for.”
“Times like sandwich shops?” I prompted carefully, earning a brief smile.
