“You’re such an asshole,” she bit out, but I could see the flicker of amusement in her eyes before she smacked me in the face with the bouquet.
“Hey, it worked!” I laughed. “You thought it was funny. Even if you didn’t, you can’t deny that it made youwantto smile, maybe even laugh a little. Mission accomplished, Princess.”
I was lying in bed on a Sunday morning, my eyes fixed on Morgan’s sleeping form—she’d come over last night after we left the bar and ended up staying. This had been a newer development in the deal between us over the last few months since the first time we’d accidentally broken that rule. I wasn’t complaining. I never cared for that stupid rule in the first place. And being able to wake up next to her in the morning, whether we were at her place or mine, I was able to ease the effects of myerotic dreams of her—because those were still a very regular fucking occurrence.
“Please tell me you have coffee this time…”
Morgan’s sleep-riddled voice pulled me from my thoughts, and a chuckle escaped me. “Yes. I learned my lesson.”
In exchange for the no sleepover rule, she added “must have coffee on hand” to the list. I didn’t have any the last time she’d stayed over, and, well, that was the first time she’d withheld sex from me because, without her morning coffee, she turned into the demon I used to claim she was.
“Such a good boy,” she breathed.
My brow arched. “Don’t…don’t say that again…”
“Why? You call me a good girl. What’s the difference?”
“I call you a good girl when I’m fucking you six ways to Sunday, Princess. Not because you happen to have something I like stocked in your kitchen.”
A sleepy laugh escaped her. “Never thought you’d get so defensive over being called a good boy.”
“I’m not getting defensive. I…” I hated it but was simultaneously turned on.
Another laugh escaped her as she sat up, wrapping the sheet around her naked body and yanking it off of me as she stood. I rolled my eyes with a shake of my head and a subtle smile as I sat up, reached for my sweatpants on the floor, and pulled them on.
I walked toward her, watching the way her eyes traveled over my shirtless form down to where the sweatpants hung low on my hips, earning a smirk from me. “See something you like, Princess?”
“Yeah,” she said, biting her lip before meeting my gaze. “The guy who’s gonna make me some coffee.”
My expression fell as she chuckled. “You’re a little shit…”
I don’t know what possessed me to be soplayful…but suddenly, my hands shot toward her waist to tickle her sides.
That proved to be a mistake.
Because one moment, Morgan squealed, and the next, her fist connected with my jaw.
I stumbled back with a grunt as she yelped, seemingly surprised by what she’d done. “Fucking hell, Morgan,” I groaned as I rubbed my jaw.
When I looked at her, her eyes were wide. “I’m so sorry!” she squeaked. “You can’t tickle me! It puts me into immediate fight or flight!”
“So, you’re telling me it’s okay to give you a five-finger necklace, but if I tickle you, I risk catching an uppercut from Satan herself?”
“I’m sorry!” She covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. “I didn’t mean it. It was an instinctive reaction.” She took a couple of tentative steps forward. “Are you okay?”
I dropped my hand, turning to look at the mirror on my wall before she gently grabbed my chin and turned my head toward her to look for herself. “I’m fine.” It was a little red, but she didn’t get me hard enough to do any damage. I could see her fighting back more laughter, and I shook my head with a subtle grin. “You’re a goddamn mess.”
Before she could respond, a knock on my apartment door pulled our gazes toward the hallway. “You expecting someone?”
“No,” I answered as I started toward the door. “Stay here.”
I walked down the hallway and peered through the peephole, my brow furrowing. When I looked over my shoulder and saw Morgan’s head peeking out of my bedroom, I gestured for her to disappear from view before I turned back and opened the door.
“It’s so early…”
Lucas chuckled as I stepped aside to let him in. “It’s nearly ten.”
“Exactly.”
