“How mortifying. Believe me, I know the pain of a name.” She scrunches her nose adorably. “If I’ve been mispronouncing—”
“I won’t be able to hear you say it any other way.”
“Oh. Sweet.” Her expression softens.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“We wouldn’t want to spoil your reputation.”
“What reputation is that?” I ask smoothly.
“I’m not sure yet,” she says, her eyes falling very obviously to my shirt. Antonio’s shirt. Blue when mine was white. It’s not handmade and fits too tightly across my shoulders. “If I look upmulticulturalin a dictionary, will I find a picture of you?”
“If I look for trouble—”
“Then you’ve found it!”
“Hang on, what about your American accent? Your dad?” she tacks on.
“British. American high school and college.” Regardless of whether I wanted it or not. But I guess it was far away from him and his new life. As well as too far from my mother and my old life. At least the bastard left me some of his money. I hope he’s rolling in his grave at how I’ve used it. Multiplied, diversified.
“Is that why you live in London?”
“No. He’s dead. They both are. I don’t really live in one place…” Or at least, I didn’t until this year.
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off.
“My turn.”
“Fine,” she answers, though her tone makes it sound like the opposite.
“You’re too far away. Come closer.”
“Was that an order?”
“A request. Always a request.”
Her brow quirks haughtily. I stifle my smile.Fuck, this girl.My heart seems to beat in time with the beat of her heels until she’s standing in front of me.
“Closer.” My fingers reach for hers, and she steps between my legs. “Closer.”
“If I get any closer, I’ll be a broach or a pin.”
“I can cope with that.”
I put my hands on her hips, and she bends from the waist, her lips brushing mine. “You taste like whiskey and smoke,” she whispers.
“Disgusting habits.”
“I know. You make me sick.” Her words are just breath, her tongue caressing the seam of my lips.
“You make me hard.”
I tug, and she climbs. I hiss out a curse, her tits briefly in my face.
She drops into my lap, and I groan.
“Story checks out.” Her voice is husky, her hand curling around my nape. “Unless that’s a really large…knifeyou have in your pocket.”
