Page 73 of Tempt


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Her eyes twinkle with something—gratitude? Hope? I don’t know. But I do know that I could stand here all day and take it in.

Get away from her, Chase.

I head to the sink and wash my hands under hot water. Twice. Just to take up more time.

“How was your day at work?” she asks.

“Same shit, different day. How was your day here? Did things go okay?”

“Yup. I did the laundry in the bathroom and mudroom. I folded it all and sorted it for you and Kennedy, but I didn’t want to put it away. It felt like an invasion of your privacy.”

I grin.

She leans next to me, the soft scent of jasmine taunting me, and grins too. “Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“I wanted to be nosy. I wanted to go in your room and put your things away so I could snoop around.”

I turn the water off and flick the water from my hands at her. She squeals as I grab a towel. My plan is to head to the table and wait on Kennedy. But like I’m on autopilot, I find myself at the sink again to be next to her.

“What do you think you’d find?” I ask.

“Something good, I hope.”

I chuckle. “Like what?”

She bites her lip. It takes everything in me not to pop it free and sink my mouth against hers.

But I don’t.

“Like what?” I ask again. “Whips? Chains? Handcuffs?”

Her eyes go wide.

I laugh. “I’m kidding.”

She sighs, and I’m unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed.

“Or am I?” I ask.

She shoves me, knocking me off balance. My chest bounces as I try not to laugh too loudly at her.

“You and I had an agreement,” she says, checking the doorway for Kennedy. “We were pretending this didn’t exist.”

“What didn’t exist?”

She looks at me like I’m ignorant.

“What are you talking about, Megan?” I grin mischievously, lowering my mouth to her ear. “Oh, right. We were pretending I don’t want to taste your pussy.”

She bats at my arm. I pull away, laughing way too hard.

“You just brought that up,” she says, pointing at me. “Not me. I’ve not broken our deal.”

“Semantics, sweetheart.”

She blushes at the term of endearment—the one I didn’t mean to say. Instead of recanting the word, I act like I don’t realize I said it.