“Uncle Raif,” Lavender drawls with a silky-sounding sulkiness. “Don’t be such a party pooper.”
I frown her way. Didn’t she learn last night that rubbing me up the wrong way leads to… well, I guess me rubbing her up the right way?
And to me jerking off in the shower. Alone.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed to find her sleeping once I’d dried off. Sleeping or pretending. It was hard to tell. And then this morning, I’d woken to an empty bed.
“If you want me to come with you, I will,” Daisy says, her tone forlorn. Who knew I was so unpopular?
“Of course you can go to work with Lavender. If she’s sure that’s okay.” I glance her way again.Last chance to get out of it.
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” she answers snippily.
I see that. Of course I do. I also see this woman has facets I hadn’t anticipated.
“Mondays are usually a slow day.” She shrugs. “We’re overstaffed.”
“Well, okay. Still gotta get dressed, kiddo.” Before I’ve even finished my sentence, Daisy dashes off.
“Nothing too fancy,” Lavender calls after her. “Old clothes.” She turns back to the breakfast detritus.
“Leave the mess. The maids will be in soon.”
She slides me a mocking glance over her shoulder. The next thing I know, I’m pressed up against her, my hand next to hers on the countertop, our fingers almost touching. She gives a soft gasp as I press my mouth to her ear.
“How else am I supposed to impress you but with clean, pressed laundry?”
She offers me her profile, her lashes a dark sweep and her mouth a tempting pout. “I said I’d be impressed when the machine does that itself.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” I whisper, mildly disappointed she didn’t take the bait.
“I have to get dressed.” She makes to move when I trap her between the sink and my body, pulling her hips into mine in a not-so-little reminder of what she missed out on last night.
“You like to pretend nothing impresses you.” I slide her hair from her neck. Burrow my lips into her neck. “But I see it when I get you off. When your eyes glaze and you begin to squirm, I think you might give me anything.”
“Are you fishing for compliments again?”
“It’s what you reduce me to, princess. You’re so harsh in the cold light of day.” I scrape my teeth over her delicate skin. She swallows audibly, her fingers turning white as she grips the sink. “Don’t you have anything nice to say?”
Fuck compliments, I think.I want toseemore of this. Feel more of her.
“Yeah, don’t hold your breath.” She turns her head, her half smile as sweet as an arsenic-dipped cherry. “Or maybe do. But just for an hour or so.”
“You don’t mean that. At least, not before I fuck you.”
“I’m sure I’d cope without your dick.”
“And I’m sure you’re curious.”
“You know what that did to the cat,” she taunts.
“Speaking of felines”—or dogs—“don’t answer the door to my men dressed like this again.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“I don’t want them hanging around for scraps.” I pluck at the hem of her T-shirt. “Unless you’d like me to castrate them.” Fucking Leo.
“There’s no one around. Husband,” she amends heavily. “No need for the jealousy act.”
