Jack pulled me up from the couch and our bodies crashed together. He slipped his arms around my back, cupping my ass.
“Just because you don't understand the meaning behind something, doesn't mean there isn't a reason for everything I do.” Jack bent down, kissing the side of my neck. I tipped my head to the side, allowing him to continue, muttering under my breath when he stopped.
It hadn't been quite enough.
Jack squeezed my ass. Hard. “Would you care to repeat that, boy?”
“No.” I dipped my chin, sticking my bottom lip out in, what I hoped was, a cute pout. Jack wasn’t having any of it.
“No, what?” While he waited for me to answer, Jack yanked me into the kitchen where I had two plates stacked next to the stove. “Answer me, boy.”
“I would if I had any clue what you expected from me.”
“Fair enough.” The conversation died again as Jack scooped huge portions of the meaty pasta onto both plates. No way in hell would I be able to finish mine without getting sick. “That's part of what I would like for us to talk about over dinner. It's not acceptable for me to scold you for disobeying rules that you may or may not know exist.”
“Gee, you think?” Realizing what I'd said, I clapped a hand over my mouth. The filter between my brain and mouth could engage any time now.
But Jack didn't react the way I'd expected him to. Instead of scolding me for being disrespectful, he laughed. Again. Just like his speaking voice, his laughter was low and rich, sending vibrations through my entire body. I silently promised myself to do whatever I could to hear that more often.
“We are definitely going to have fun, Slade. Let's eat. You did a great job cleaning up the living room. I hadn't realized you had a romantic side.” I followed Jack back into the living room, using my position to carefully inspect every curve of his ass. It wasn’t tight enough to bounce a quarter off or anything, but it was still gorgeous. Everything about Jack was just a bit off from what I usually went for.
I couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. “Pretty sure that's the first time anyone has accused me of being romantic.”
I took a seat on the floor, leaving the place setting in front of the couch open for Jack.
“It's a nice touch,” Jack reassured me, then stared at me for a moment. His brows furrowed, and his gentle smile flattened before turning into a frown. “Take out the hair tie.”
“Oooookay.” The word was drawn out as I slowly reached back to free my hair.
Jack shook his head; his lips still pursed tightly. “Take off the shirt.”
I perked up a bit, smiling. Finally, we were getting to the good stuff. I didn’t bother questioning him turning back on his insistence that we eat before dinner got cold. I quickly unfastened the buttons at my wrists and the top two nearest my neck, then yanked the shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere behind me.
“Boy.” I swallowed hard at the warning tone in his voice.
What the hell had I done wrong now?
“You spent all that time cleaning earlier and now you're going to throw your clothes around?” Jack sighed heavily and clenched his jaw. He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest again, not saying a word as he waited for my reaction. “Pick it up, fold it, and place it over there.” He nodded toward the far end of the couch.
I sneered at Jack, just barely biting back a sarcastic retort. When I pushed myself up on the edge of the coffee table, it began to tip. Only Jack's quick reflexes saved our dinner from dumping all over the floor and me.
“Have a little bit of self-control,” Jack scolded me.
“How exactly am I supposed to do that? This is how you get up off the floor.” I cocked my head to the side and smirked. Jack sucked in a sharp breath, holding it, then releasing it slowly.
“You can do it without breaking the table, boy.”
I fell back onto my ass, glaring at him. The staring contest continued until I finally rolled onto my knees and pushed myself up and backward.
I flashed Jack a sassy smirk. “Happy now?”
“That was much better, boy.” He jerked his head toward the discarded shirt. “Now pick up after yourself.”
I yanked the shirt hard enough that the edge of the fabric dragged through my plate.
“Attention, boy,” Jack snapped.
“You're the one who wanted me to act natural,” I quipped.
