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“It is.”
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he drags it between his teeth as his eyes rake back up my body.
“Do you know how fucking badly I wanted to see you walking around in my shirt in that house instead of theirs?”
My smile widens as I step closer, my skin tingling with awareness and craving his touch.
“Feeling a little possessive, were you?” I tease.
“Doll,” he warns, his jaw ticking.
“You loved it and you know it.”
His eyes flash with heat and it makes me wonder what memory is playing out in his head right now.
“You’re trouble.” He growls before reaching out the second I’m in touching distance and pulling me into his body.
One of his arms bands around my back, pinning me in place while the other lifts, his fingers sinking into my wet hair and dragging my head back so he can kiss me.
It’s perfect.
Everything I’ve ever wanted.
But before I can completely lose myself in him again, he pulls away.
“Eat, Doll. You need to eat.”
Rolling my eyes like the brat he accused me of being upstairs, I hop up onto the stool as Mav slides one of the plates toward me.
“Soda?” he asks after watching me for a beat, ensuring my skin continues to prickle with his attention.
I nod before ripping my eyes away from him in favor of the sandwich. My stomach growls loudly, making him laugh as he emerges with drinks.
“Oh my God,” I mumble when I take my first bite. It might only be a simple cheese and ham sandwich, but shit, I really needed this.
Mav moves closer and I gasp as the heat of his bare arm brushes against mine.
“Good?” he asks, his eyes dark and hungry.
Something tells me that he’s not asking about his sandwich, but so much more than that.
I guess it’s a good thing that my answer would be the same no matter what.
“So good,” I assure him, reaching out to squeeze his thigh beneath the counter.
His muscles pull and twist beneath my palm and I squeeze tighter.
I don’t move my hand as he starts on his own food. I can’t. I need this connection to him. The reminder that this is real.
Silence stretches out between us as we eat; it’s not uncomfortable, time with Mav never is, but it is full of unasked, loaded questions.
He finishes before me, pushing his plate away and draining his glass of soda long before I’ve made it even halfway through my sandwich.
His hand drops beneath the table and his fingers twist with mine.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, “You can ask.”
“Doll.” He sighs, hanging his head.
