I shut out the thought. “Let me order in—”
“No.” She trailed past me like a stubborn little butterfly, opened the freezer, rummaged through it, and pulled out salmon fillets.
I leaned against the counter, arms folded over my chest as the coffee sputtered and spat into the pot, its rich fragrance saturating the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”
She hip-bumped the freezer door shut and set the fish in the sink. “You sit there.” She pointed to the barstool on the opposite side of the counter. “And just be pretty while I take care of our meal.”
I narrowed my eyes. She grinned and put the fillets on a plate, popped it into the microwave for a quick defrost, then got out asparagus from the fridge.
Before she turned, I slipped my hands around her waist. She shrieked as I picked her up and planted her delectable ass on the counter. “You tug a lion’s mane—”
“And get eaten?” she taunted.
“Yes.”
Then a true smile started, lighting her from the inside out, reflecting in her eyes. “Let me down. I need to get our meal ready.”
“No.”
“War,” she groaned, smacking my arm with the asparagus tips.
“Yes?”
“You’re being difficult, right?”
“No.”
“Then let me off this counter so I can get started.”
“No.”
“Jesus! What’s with the one-word answers?”
I rested my hands near her hips, caging her. “What do you think?”
Her gaze searched mine. A smile hovered. Slowly, she set the stalks on the counter, and trailed her fingers down my chest to my abs, then pushed her hands under my tee. And I let her, waiting to see what she’d do.
A finger tauntingly stroked my skin above the fastening of my jeans—fuck!
I only intended to kiss her for her teasing, but she turned the tables on me like a damn pro. Her fingers dipped under the waistband of my jeans, teasing the edges of my boxer briefs, never touching me where I desperately wanted her to. Instead, the little tease removed her hand and rubbed my denim-covered cock.
“If you want to do something like touch my dick, then do it properly,” I growled. “Because when I suck your lips, and I don’t mean these.” I brushed my digits over her mouth. “I fucking feast on you—”
She licked my fingers. Hell!
This girl would kill me.
The microwave beeped in an unwanted intrusion. I reached back and shut it off.
Smirking, she undid the button and zipper on my jeans, shoved my boxers lower, and my cock sprung out. She wrapped her fingers around my erection and, as if that alone didn’t feel fucking good enough, her fingers tightened, squeezing my dick as she stroked me.
So, I got in on her little game. I removed her t-shirt and tossed it on the counter, leaving her in her minuscule bra that barely covered her tits. “Remove your panties and pull your bra down.”
Charli blinked, then she let go of my aching cock, and drew her bra cups down, framing her small, plump breasts. Her eyes on mine, she hooked her fingers on either side of her underwear and slowly dragged them off her sexy limbs, taunting me with every fucking gradual inch she revealed, but her skirt blocked the view I was dying for. She held it out, the silk hanging on a finger, while a provocative smile I wanted to lick right off her tempting mouth taunted me.
I took the silk and shoved them into my back pocket. “Feet on the counter, I want to see you.”
She stilled and bit her lip.
