“I guess, but?—”
“Come on. What’s the difference between this and a window? If you haven’t seen someone fucking through a window in New York, you’re not a New Yorker.”
“Yeah,” I say, against the hot torment of Matt’s mouth, “but I like to be the one watching, not being watched.”
He chuckles, breaks our kiss, walks to the door, and flips a switch along the brick wall. The lights fade, leaving only the soft flicker of candlelight. The fairy lights were beautiful, but this? This is sexier. Moodier.
He meets my gaze, crooks a finger, and motions for me to come to him as hesteps forward.
I don’t.
Instead, I peel the straps from my shoulders, slide my dress down…
And make Matt come to me.
We’rea mess of sweat and smiles under a thin blanket.
“That was fun,” I say, catching my breath. Matt’s lips linger on my skin, dusting soft kisses along my shoulder, neck, jaw… easing me down from the high that is Matthew Grayson.
“Best birthday ever?” he asks, breath still uneven.
“Best birthday ever.” My grin stretches wide, andGod, I feel good.Elated. Relaxed. Loved.
Matt plants a kiss between my breasts, and I say, “I can’t wait to bring my new boyfriend to Sunday dinner.”
He looks up, just long enough to catch my teasing smile. “Let’s skip Sunday dinner,” he murmurs, making his way to my mouth. “Spend the night in bed instead.” He nips at my bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth before meeting my gaze. “I’d rather worship you than pretend to behave.”
“Hmm. I bet you would.”
“I’d rather not have to take you home after, either.”
My hands trail up and down his arms, appreciating the sheer strength of him. “Then I’ll spend the night.”
“Just move in with me. Then I never have to take you home.”
I laugh softly. “You couldn’t wait one hour before bringing that back up?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“I need to think about it.”
“What if we rock, paper, scissors?”
I lift a brow. “You want to rock, paper, scissors over something this big?”
“Why not? Leave it up to fate.”
“You don’t believe in fate.”
He kisses me. “But you do.”
I press my lips together. He’s impossible. And it’s dumb… but it’s our thing.
“Fine,” I say finally. “You win, I move in?”
He nods.
“And what if I win?”
