“D-dirty?” I spluttered. “How, exactly?”
“The tears —”
“That wasn’t on purpose! Do you think I can cry on command? I’m not that good an actor.”
“No. You wear your emotions pretty much on your sleeve.”
I frowned, because I didn’t think that was a good thing. “You don’t.”
He shifted, stretching both arms up and resting them behind his head. It exposed his underarms and I found myself staring at his armpit hair. I sort of wanted to touch it.
“Sometimes I worry I’m obvious,” he said.
I jerked my gaze to his face. “You? Worrying about something?”
He gave me a sideways look. “I know you think I’m perfect, but I’m human too.”
“I don’t think you’re perfect.” I paused. “Okay, maybe a little bit. It’s why I can’t stand you.”
I thought he’d shoot me a cocky, lazy smile in response, but instead, his lips flattened.
I turned my gaze back to the ceiling, scratching my tummy. The room smelled like sex and we were on a dirty bed and I should’ve been itching to shower, but I couldn’t make myself get up.
“Holy fuck,” I murmured, rolling to face him and propping myself up on an elbow. “I won.”
He gave me a concerned look. “We established that.”
“Iwon,” I repeated. “You’re my slave.” I laughed. Then I laughed some more, sounding slightly hysterical.
“I think that’s my cue —” Taylor started to roll away, but I yanked him back, and he landed on the bed, his face right below mine.
“Are you starting now?” he asked.
Right. The winner had the loser for an entire night. “No. My dick’s out for tonight.”
Something flashed through his eyes. “You’re going to make me have sex with you?”
I made a face. “You make me sound like such a sleaze. Besides, that’s what you did. And also,” I said, loudly, “what else am I supposed to make you do? Go on a date with me?”
He scowled. “No. You could make me, I don’t know, clean the entire apartment. Oh wait, I do that already.”
“I could make you do my homework,” I mused.
“How unoriginal.”
“I could make you do my homework, naked,” I said, then pointed at my desk. “Right there. And I’d watch you.”
“What the hell, Archie.”
“Oh, I know. I’ll make you cook me dinner, wearing nothing but a teensy tiny apron, and you’d serve it to me, and then you’d kneel on the floor watching me eat like my very own pet dog —”
Taylor whacked me and I whacked him back and soon I was wrestling, him rolling on top of me. “You’re so fucking weird,” he said, gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips. Then he kissed me.
We hadn’t kissed while having sex, I realised. That was probably a good thing. I didn’t want to get confused.
We kissed some more, then Taylor rolled back to his spot, looking up at the ceiling. I stared at his profile. This close to him, I could see his supposed flaws — faded freckles, stray hairs under his eyebrows, his pores — but he still seemed…I don’t know. Untouchable.
“What night will you have me?” he asked.
