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“No.”

His eyebrows rose.

“You cooked. I’ll clean.”

“You have work.”

“So?”

“I saw your face when I passed your office.”

“What was wrong with my face?”

“You looked ready to murder a spreadsheet.”

“That’s normal.”

I laughed and pushed him toward the hall.

“Go. Do whatever scary mafia business thing requires that expression.”

He caught my wrist and pulled me against him.

“And you?”

“I’m going to clean the kitchen, brush my teeth, and climb into your ginormous bed.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

I toyed with the hem of his T-shirt. “I’ll be waiting.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to tell me.”

“Then finish your work quickly.”

He kissed me deeply enough that I was breathless when he finally let me go.

“Later, Mouse.”

“Later.”

Chapter thirty-four

Iwoke on the edge of a moan, a hot ache already throbbing through my swollen pussy.

For one disorienting second, I wasn’t sure whether I was awake.

Lachlan’s body was wrapped around mine from behind, warm and close enough that I could feel every breath. One heavy arm draped around my waist as his hand nestled between my thighs. His cock was hard against my ass, but that wasn’t what had pulled me out of sleep.

It was his middle finger gliding lazily over my clit in unhurried strokes, barely enough pressure to satisfy the ache building there.

A soft moan slipped from me before I was fully awake.

His lips brushed the curve of my neck.

For a few hazy seconds, I lay perfectly still, caught somewhere between sleep and pleasure while his fingertip continued that maddening rhythm. If this were a dream, it was pure bliss—if it weren’t, I wanted more.

I shifted, opening my thighs wider in invitation.