Page 91 of Dead Pretty

“Are you real?” I turn my head to look at him.

He’s smiling. “I’m not sure how to answer that question.”

I shift onto my side, placing my hand under my head to support it. “Your stamina is unreal.”

He laughs.

“I’m serious.” I press my hand to his damp chest. “It’s inhuman. Are you a machine or something?”

He’s still laughing, louder now. He moves onto his side, putting us face-to-face. “You’re good for a man’s ego.”

“And you’re good for a woman’s orgasm count.” I grin.

His hand lands on my thigh. He lifts it, hooking it over his leg, bringing me closer to him.

I like that he needs me near. I like it a whole lot.

“And we’ve only just gotten started.” He kisses me once, softly, gently.

So out of context with the way he just spent the last …

Actually, what the hell time is it?

My eyes seek out the alarm clock on my nightstand.

Jesus. It’s late.

“Do you need to go back to your apartment?”

“Do you want me to go back to my apartment?”

“Stop answering a question with a question.” I lightly bat at his chest, and he chuckles. “I’m not kicking you out. I was just wondering if Eleven needed to be fed.”

“I put her food down before I left for our date, so she’s good.”

“She won’t break out again?”

“It’s always a possibility.”

“You can … bring her over here, if you want to …”

He stares back at me. “Are you asking me to stay the night?”

Looking away, I shrug and bite my lip.

I do want him to stay. But I’m afraid to admit it to myself as much as I’m afraid to admit it to him.

His finger curls under my chin, and his thumb tugs my lip free.

“Well, if you were asking me to get my pussy and stay over tonight, then my answer would most definitely be yes.”

Laughter splutters from me. “Your pussy?”

His brow rises, but I can see the humor in his eyes. “Cat. You pervert.”

“Uh-huh. I’m the pervert,” I tease. “You’re the one who brought up pussies.”

“I like pussies. They’re my favorite.”