“Derrick. He has a crush on you. Has since you started working at Shadow Suds.” His scowl deepens. “I could smell it on him when he came to check on you that first day. The way he looked at you. The way he said your name.”
I stare at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s hilarious.” I press my palm flat against my ribs, trying to catch my breath. “You’re jealous of Derrick. Derrick, who has never once made a move on me. Derrick, who is your friend.”
“He’s not my friend.”
“He keeps sending cleaning crews up here even though you scare them all off. He convinced me totake this job when no one else would. He’s absolutely your friend, and you’re being ridiculous.”
Tolin’s scowl doesn’t budge. “He wanted you.”
“So what?” I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I don’t belong to Derrick. I belong to you. You claimed me, remember? I have your mark on my neck and your emotions in my head and your scent all over my skin. Getting jealous over some guy who never even asked me out is stupid.”
He grumbles something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said you’re right.”
“I know I am.” I press a quick kiss to his lips. “Now stop pouting.”
“I don’t pout.”
“You absolutely pout. You’re doing it right now.”
His hands grab my hips and yank me into his lap, making me squeal. “I don’t pout,” he repeats, his voice dropping lower. “And you’re getting awfully mouthy for someone who was screaming my name two hours ago.”
Heat floods through me, both from his words and his desire pulsing between us. It stokes mine higher, a feedback loop neither of us can control.
“Maybe I like being mouthy,” I say, a little breathless.
“Maybe I like it too.” His hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “Maybe I like when you get feisty with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Turns me on.”
His dick is hardening beneath me, pressing against my center through the thin sheet. I rock against him instinctively and he groans.
“We should talk about the things I need to handle in town,” I say, even as my hips keep moving.
“Later.”
“And I’m hungry. I should eat something.”
“I’ll feed you.” His mouth finds my neck, kissing along the mark he left there. “After.”
“After what?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Just lifts me up and carries me out of the bedroom.
“Where are we going?”
“Kitchen.”
“The kitchen?”
