The fluttering was back—hell, it hadn’t left. It just came in waves, and right now, it was like a tsunami.
“I’m off tomorrow and tomorrow night,” I told him. “I work the rest of the week.”
He rubbed his hands together, his fingers long and powerful-looking. “Then why don’t you stay until you have to go to work?”
I could feel my pulse in the back of my throat. “In your room?”
“My room, or if you’d rather not sleep with me, I’ll extend your room. Whatever you prefer.”
I was so curious where this had suddenly come from, considering, earlier, he’d had no problem with me leaving and never really officially said goodbye.
It couldn’t be because he thought this was going to lead to something. The reason we’d been matched on Hooked was that we’d individually selected that we only wanted to hook up, that we weren’t interested in a relationship, marriage, or any other situationship the app offered.
I rested my elbow on the back cushion, the fingers of that hand sliding into my hair. “Why do you want me to stay?”
“You quiet the noise.”
“That’s the only reason you want me here?”
He cleared his throat. “Being alone can sometimes feel intolerable.”
“So, I quiet the noise—in other words, I talk so your brain goes silent. And I take up space so you’re not by yourself.” I chuckled. “Whiskey, you’re so complimentary, I’m overwhelmed. Talk about making me feel like the most desiredwoman alive.” I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need me. What you need is a dog.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong.”
“What I want to do to you tonight … and tomorrow … and tomorrow night, that’s foryou. And that’s because of you.”
“Then you need to work on your flattery a little.” My tone wasn’t condescending; it was honest. “If you want to fuck me, start with that. Don’t tell me I’m here to fill a room so you’re not lonely.”
His eyes narrowed. “People never talk to me that way.”
“I just did.” I gave him a soft smile. “And I would do it again.”
“Jesus …” His head shook before it dropped, and a soft laugh followed.
I pointed at his chest, surprised that I’d extended my arm too far and my finger actually touched him. The moment I did, he surrounded my finger and wouldn’t let me move. “You laughed.”
His face rose, and he turned his neck, no longer looking at me straight on. “I don’t know about that …”
“No, that was most definitely a laugh, don’t even try to deny it. Which must mean you find me funny. And that’s hysterical because I don’t think I’m funny at all.”
He dragged his tongue over the top of his bottom lip. “You’re cute.”
“Whoooa,” I sang. “Was that a compliment?”
“That mouth …”
“But I understand you want this mouth? Isn’t that what you said?” I pulled my finger away from him so I could trace it around my lips. I even added some cheesecake during the second loop for maximum impact. “That there’s a lot more you’d like to put in it?”
He laughed again. “How about this? I find you fucking gorgeous. Your personality—that’s cute. Cute and a little fiery. And it’s that cuteness and fire that caused the kind of reaction you claim I just had.”
“Claim?” I huffed. “No. It’s fact. You laughed not once, but twice.”
“I won’t confirm that.”
I squeezed his forearm. “You’re not one to admit when you’re wrong, are you?”
