‘And you can think again.’
‘That’s ungentlemanly,’ I complain.
‘Says the woman who’s already manhandled my junk. That’s no’ very ladylike, feeling a sleeping man up.’
‘That was an accident! It was dark.’
‘Then you pulled my blankets away, no doubt trying to grab a wee peek of the goods.’
‘Now, that’s not true,’ I protest, even as my cheeks burn. Indignation, I’m sure. Yes, let’s go with that.
‘And now you want into my bed, but not before you demand I talk dirty to you.’
Oh, well, he’s got me there. On both points, really, though I didn’t mean what I said earlier, even if his dirty game is... provocative. And with that accent? Extra points. And that voice?Gah!He sounds like he smokes cigars and sips whisky for breakfast or maybe that has dirty sex every morning before even thinking about bran flakes.
Despite the friction between us, there’s just something so sexual about him. Something manly and so unlike the city boys I’ve been dating. Slim metros in tight trousers that don’t quite reach the ankle.Men who pay more money for a haircut than I do.What would a man like Greg wear in the daylight hours? Button-fly jeans tucked carelessly over rugged boots. Tight-fitting Henleys and flannel shirts, I’ll bet. Not that I’m complaining about how he looks right now. His pale T-shirt has been washed so often, it covers the thick ropes of his biceps and flat stomach like a second skin. And his pyjama pants? Let just say they don’t leave much to the imagination. I sodon’tneed to ask him how he’s hanging.
Who knew clothing porn was a thing?
‘I’m not unreasonable,’ I begin, ignoring the rise of his sceptical brows. ‘And I don’t think you are, either, even if it looks like we’re stuck here tonight.’
‘I’m not stuck here, Ilivehere. Sometimes.’
‘Whatever. And whatever the reason, we both have to stay here tonight. Together. Agreed?’ He does but only just. ‘We just need to decide how.’ He shrugs in acquiescence, his eyes sliding to the leather couch beyond the kitchen. Then he picks up the bottle behind him and tips more into his glass before silently offering to top up mine.
‘One more for the road, so to speak.’ His low voice rumbles as I hold out my glass. ‘It’ll help you sleep. I just hope you’re not a bed hog.’
