“Apparently, I do,” I say, and we both crack into laughter.
“Here,” she says, and hands me my sandwich from behind her. “Eat.”
I take from her, and she grabs her own.
There we stand.
She naked, leaning against the table.
The woman I broke all the rules for.
The arrogant, cold, and entitled con artist.
Eating sandwiches.
And I finally understand what she meant when she said she’s just like that for the people who don’t know her well.
Because that shell she created hosts a beautiful, soft heart.
I have to giggle.
“What?” she asks.
“You know I was sure you were a psychopath back at uni?”
“I am aware of your notes, yes,” she says.
“Of course you are,” I say. “I believe I can put those notes to rest.”
“Why?”
“Because you definitely ain’t one,” she says.
“Who says I am not? Could be all a game I play to manipulate you.”
There she is, the woman who makes me lose my mind daily.
“Yeah, nah,” I say. “You love me.”
“Don’t overestimate your importance,” she says dismissively, and yet with a hint of humor in it.
“Oh,” I say with my eyebrows drawn up, because I can play that game with her.
I take a step closer.
Put my sandwich onto the plate behind her by grasping around her, purposefully pressing my chest against her breasts.
Breasts that should be forbidden to have, because they are so round and stand on their own without hanging the slightest bit.
Everything about her body is just perfect.
“Mhhmmmm,” I breathe in her ear as I lean back. “I’ll go then, if I’m not important.”
I am not even two steps back when she grasps my neck, pulls me back, and swirls me into a kiss.
Not just any kiss.
Fuck me,she knows how to make a woman swoon, because the way she grasped me?—
