“Do you agree with him?”Why am I asking that question? Why?
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “I like you just fine, Robyn. But let’s face it, you’re a little old for me.”
I choke out a laugh. “Heeeey! Only by three years.”
He looks at me a moment longer, smiling. Then his smile fades.
“In all seriousness, my dragon can also get up front and center when I’m inside you. So, if I’m being a little too rough,” he says, “you need to tell me.”
“I won’t break that easily. I like it a little rough.”
He gives me a look I like a little too much.
“Keep talking like that, and you won’t get much of a break.” His voice is gruff.
I smile.
“Can I get you something? Water? A drink? Something to eat?”
“I would love a?—”
I sit bolt upright so fast my head swims.
“What?” Ridge is on his elbow, ready to launch out of the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“The chicken.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I put chicken in the oven earlier, before you got here. It’ll be burned to a crisp by now.”
“Stay there,” he tells me. “I’ll check on it.”
Then he rolls out of the bed and dashes for the hallway.
The oven door opens and closes. Then the faucet runs.
A minute later, he comes back, and I have to stop myself from blatantly checking him out.
Ridge is naked, muscled, and covered in tattoos.
He’s freaking gorgeous.
He’s carrying two bottles of water and what looks like a damp hand towel.
“Dinner is dead.”
He hands me the warm towel.
I groan. “It was herbed chicken with new potatoes.”
“It is now charcoal.”
“Wonderful. Just great.”
I clean myself between my legs.
“I ordered pizza. I hope you like pepperoni?” He lifts his brows.
My stomach grumbles.
“I love you,” I blurt.
