"See something nice?" she asked, her question pointed.
"Better than nice."
Suddenly, Clay leaned forward, bringing their faces less than a foot apart. "You know what?" he said. "I don't give a shit if I win or lose anymore. Do you?"
Dylan's heart rate kicked up, pounding hard and fast against her sternum. But she wasn't one to give up easily.
"Are you forfeiting?" she whispered.
Clay's eyes were hot as he stared at her mouth. "Fuck it. Yes, I am. What are you going to do about it?"
Dylan grinned at him and got to her feet. Without taking her gaze from his, she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt. In a blink, she'd tugged it over her head and stood before him in nothing but a pair of lavender panties that matched her bra.
"I win," she said.
Clay rose from the couch and plucked her off her feet before she could say or do anything. Dylan wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles together as he carried her to the front door.
"Are we going somewhere?" she asked when he stopped in front of the door.
Dylan glanced over her shoulder and laughed when she saw the chain he'd installed. Clay slid the chain into place.
"No one is going to interrupt us tonight," he said.
"What about the back door?" Dylan asked.
Clay hiked her up higher, his hands cupping her ass. "I made sure to throw the deadbolt."
"Doesn't your mom have a key for that?"
"Nope. I installed it this week."
Dylan laughed as he carried her back to the bedroom. She laughed again when she saw his room. There were candles set on the dresser and nightstands and they definitely hadn't been there the last time she was in his bedroom.
"What's so funny?" Clay asked as he carried her to the bed.
"You've thought of everything," she answered. "Except the condoms."
"They're in the drawer next to the bed."
She squealed when he dropped her on the bed. Dylan leaned back against the pillows to watch as Clay walked around the room and lit the candles.
The romantic gesture touched her. He was such a gruff, blunt man. She liked that about him, but it also meant that she didn't expect things like this.
When he was done, Clay came over to the bed and sat next to her. "What is it?" he asked.
"What is what?"
"You have a look on your face," he said, reaching out to cup her calf with his hand. "I'm not sure what it means."
"I'm wondering if you'll get embarrassed or angry if I tell you how sweet it was for you to set up all of this."
Clay reached out and snagged a remote off the nightstand. With the press of a button, the deep thump of low, sensual music filled the air. He dropped the remote back onto the table and turned toward her.
"It wasn't sweet. It was wishful thinking."
ChapterFourteen
Dylan reached out and cupped his cheek. "Wishful thinking is buying a box of condoms. This was sweet."
