Proof of her losing that battle was both of them in her bedroom behind a locked door.
At least he wasn’t currently being cocky about it. Or crowing about how he could easily talk her out of her clothes.
Not that he needed to because, of course, they were both shedding their clothes while watching each other do so.
However, unlike him, she didn’t have much to remove. It should come as no surprise that he didn’t seem to care that he had the advantage. By the time she was fully naked, he still wore his jeans and boxer briefs.
Was she impatient for him to finish baring all?
Yes, but telling him so would give him another win. And the man needed to be more humble.
Of course, he already knew how much he turned her on. Clearly evident by his smirk as he reached for the top button of his jeans.
And the way he was slowly unzipping them.
Like a damn tease.
All he needed was some upbeat music and smooth dance moves for him to star in one of the many male revue shows in Vegas.
He paused with his clunky DAMC belt buckle undone and his jeans hanging loosely off his narrow hips. “Why you still standin’ there?”
“I’m waiting for you to catch up. But as slow as you’re moving, at least you’re giving me a chance to rethink this whole thing.”
“Whatya meanrethink?”
“My common sense is telling me what a mistake this will be.” Not to mention, recent history had proven it.
He cupped his denim-covered crotch. “What’s your pussy tellin’ you?”
To toss that common sense out the freaking window, of course. “I haven’t had a conversation with it yet.”
One side of his deliciously sexy mouth hiked up. “Gonna have a close conversation with it soon. Gonna let you know what it says.” He shoved his jeans down and they landed with a thump around his ankles. His erection bounced as he stepped free from the pile of denim and cotton boxer briefs.
She took him in from top to toe. But she had to do a double-take. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She could barely squeeze out his name.
Zeke’s eyebrows slammed together. “What?”
“When the hell did you get that done?” The newest tattoo on his chest was still fresh.
He glanced down. “Coupla days ago.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Like it?”
She stared at a tattoo that had obviously been done by Lyric. It was a well-done, realistic, three-dimensional drawing of a Harley’s handlebars. Inside the left handlebar was Ledger’s name.
Why would?—
“Got room on the other side for our next kid’s name, too,” he stated proudly as he pointed to the right handlebar.
Holy shit.
“Ournext kid?” She certainly wasn’t going to ask what he’d do if they had more than two kids because she hadno plansto have even one more with him. “You’ll have to find someone else to push out those babies. It won’t be me.”
“Fuck that. You’re gonna be the only one havin’ my boys.”
Boys?
This man was utterly delusional. “You must’ve smoked some serious shit before coming over here tonight.”
With a smirk, he shrugged. “Kinda right. Smoked some damn good shit and then had a serious talk with myself over our future.”
