Or what he’d do if I got a little closer.
“You always this quiet when you’re thinking dirty thoughts?” he asks, low.
I arch a brow. “YouwishI was thinking about you.”
“Oh, I don’t need to wish.” He dips a hand into the water, lets it drift lazily toward me. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ve been looking at my chest since I got in.”
“Please,” I snort. “I’ve been staring at the snow. Trying to enjoy the peaceful mountain solitude.”
“You been staring at the snow, huh?” His foot brushes mine under the water.
My breath catches.
That’s new.
“You sure you’re not staring at something else?” he says. “Something… bigger?”
I laugh—nervous, breathy, definitely too warm now. “You’reridiculous.”
He smiles. Slow and sinful.
I shift away, only to find the edge of the tub behind me. Nowhere to run. “Let me guess,” I say. “This is where you tell me I’ve got nowhere to hide?”
“No.” He leans forward. Water laps between us. “This is where I tell you, you don’twantto.”
I don’t.
God help me, I don’t.
His hand reaches the edge of my knee underwater. Doesn’t move higher. Doesn’t have to.
I feel it everywhere.
“You came up here with your red lipstick and those little boots, swinging your sass like a weapon,” he murmurs. “You thought you’d walk in, redecorate my life, and leave without me noticing.”
“Iofferedto split the money.”
“Fuck the money.”
He slides closer.
I’m breathing hard now. Heart beating like a Christmas drum solo.
“What do you want then?” I whisper.
His hand glides up my thigh.
“You.”
A pause.
“I want you. Bent over my workbench. In my bed. On my lap. Right here. Wherever you’ll let me have you.”
He moves between my knees, hovering just shy of contact.
“But not until you beg,” he adds, voice low, rough. “Because I want to hear you say it. I want tofeelit when you break for me.”
My head drops back.
