I smirk and take a drink from my bottle. “Good to know.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dirty Talker
Did I just tell him I wanted to bear his children?
I think I did.
Holy hell’s bells. I’m the biggest idiot on the planet. I probably just scared the bejesus out of him. He’s never going to ask me out again. Ever. Which is sad because this night has been good. Interesting. And phew, sexy. The man can kiss, and he’s full of naughty innuendos that, I must admit, turn me right the heck on. I love how he talks a little dirty. I wouldn’t even mind if he was abigdirty talker. I love a manuscript where the hero says everything he thinks, and imagining myself in that kind of scenario … well, not going to lie, it makes my purple panties very excited. Well, not the panties, because they’re an inanimate object. What’s inside the panties.
I probably didn’t need to expound on all that, but it’s done, and it can’t be undone.
Unlike his jeans.
I’d like those undone.
“Colette?”
Shit. I was off on a mental tangent. Again. “Huh?”
“I asked if you had a preference.”
Yes. I prefer big, dark-haired men… Okay. Stop. “Preference?”
“Comedy? Drama? Horror? You know, the movie?”
Right. “You pick something, and I’ll give it a thumbs up or down.” Since I can’t think straight and my only thoughts are about what he’s packing, choosing a movie seems like a daunting task.
“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me.”
I shrug, and my strap falls down again. I leave it there for a minute until he’s done flipping channels. I want to see if sliding it back into place gets the same reaction from him as it did in the restaurant.
“Compromise. I chose a classic.Rear Windowwith Jimmy Stewart.”
“And Grace Kelly. I love this one.” When he leans back in his seat, he looks over at me. That’s when I do it. I place my thumb beneath the strap and pull it up slowly. He’s watching. Staring is a better word for it.
“Have I told you how much I like those little dresses you wear?” He’s still staring at my finger beneath the strap.
“You do?” I ask, playing coy. Because damn, I’d like to see what he does with just a little harmless teasing. I use two of my fingers and slide them up and down the strap—just a tad.
He’s watching me.
“I’d go to so far as to say I kind of love those little dresses.” He lifts his hand and places two fingers on the same strap. “I think I like this best when it falls down.”
Oh. Fuck. Yes.
Now it’s my turn to stare as he slides his finger beneath the strap and tugs on it until it falls down to rest on my upper arm. Then, he does something I don’t expect. He kisses my shoulder. “You’ve got freckles here.”
I know. God. I know. “They’re everywhere.”
“Oh, yeah?” He glances up at me. “I’d like to see that.”
Oh. Hellz. Yes.
His lips move from my shoulder to my neck, right below my ear. I love getting kissed there, so I tilt my head away to give him more room. I must’ve sighed or made a noise, because he says, “You like getting kissed on that spot.”
“Love it.”
