“I don’t think my mouth has anything to do with my sexual history and more to do with you. I often say what I’m thinking, and you provoke those thoughts.” He’s so getting that blow job at some point.
"Mmkay." I lick my lips, not sure what to say.
"You got a giant smile on your face."
"What?!" I reach up and touch my cheeks. "Don't get cocky."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
I narrow my eyes on him. "Then why didn't you tell me you wanted me forever ago if you say what you're thinking?"
"I'm saying I'm not shy. What I was doing with you, I had not a fucking clue. Told you I'm shit with women, and I didn't think telling you that I couldn’t stop thinking about how your pussy would taste or how much farther your dresses would pullup your thighs if you were pregnant with our baby would go over too well."
"Holy crap," I whisper.
In my daze of shock, Cash gets out of the car, coming around to open my door for me. He grabs my bag too.
"That whole whore thing that happened at my house might not be so bad."
"You've lost your mind." He unlocks the door, letting us in.
"What? We cleared up so much crap on the car ride."
"I was planning to clear it all up tonight. It's not women that I need to learn to understand and be good with. It's you, and I'm seeing now you rather enjoy when I'm more direct and forceful."
"I do not," I lie, slipping my shoes off.
"Are you sure about that?" he challenges, setting my bag down to turn and face me.
"What do you mean?" Is it hot in here? What does he keep the thermostat at? He takes a step toward me, a hungry expression taking over his face. Cash never shows any of his emotions, but right now he's showing me everything.
"Running scared?" He cocks his head, and I realize I have now pressed myself against the closed front door.
"I don't run scared." His hands come down beside my head, caging me in.
"I can check for myself." He leans down, and I think he's going to kiss me, but his mouth brushes my jaw before he presses a kiss to the column of my neck. "If I slipped my hands into your panties, would you be wet for me?"
"Cash—"
“Damn, Cupcake. You know how hard it makes me when you say my name all breathy? You never use that tone with anyone else." The man really doesn't miss anything when it comes to me.
"Maybe."
He lifts his head at my response. "Babe, don't make me prove it. Your brother is almost to the front door, but if you want me to?—"
"Okay, I am!" I hiss, my cheeks starting to flame. His hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb stroking my pulse point.
"Good girl." He kisses the top of my head and steps back.
“You’ll pay for that,” I whisper, and he smirks. I love how much more he's doing that now, not just giving me that blank expression. I bet that's also a part of his childhood trauma. You learn to hide your emotions. “You know what?” I point my finger at him. He grabs it, kissing the tip.
“What?” I think he is ready for anything that I could throw his way. Cash is a lot more laid back than I realized. He can really roll with it—roll with me and my antics.
“Nothing.” I duck my head because I’m so not letting him see me smiling. He gives my ass a small smack. I try to slap his hand but miss by a mile, which he finds very amusing as he opens the door for my brother right before he gets to it.
“Damn, you’ve done a lot to this place,” he says as he enters.
“Slowly but surely.”
