Page 6 of Hear Me Roar

“I hear you, baby. My lips aresealed.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, for two point five seconds. Then I let him have it. “Now, can we talk about how I'm going to beat the crap out of you if you don't stop leaving your clothes on thefloor.”

“They're all in one pilethough.”

Insert challenging smirk that crawled under my skin. His clothes were most definitelynotin onepile.

“Um, lies. Are you blind? Look aroundyou.”

His smirk widened. “C’mon, kitten, they're justclothes.”

“Clothes that should be in the hamper,” I all but growled, bending down to pick up his mess,again.

But before I could collect even one shirt, I found myself flat on the mattress beneath his hard body. He'd all but tackled me onto it, the entire thing a blur of languid movements I should’ve seen coming. Keyword there,should've.And I already knew what was next. He did this every time I rode his ass about the damn clothes. Tickled and exhausted to me death, leaving me so breathless I couldn't bitch anymore. And it worked, every single time. As soon as I flinched, he went in for the kill, digging his fingers into my side, the guaranteed knockout spot. I started laughing so loud I could hardly breathe, flailing in his grip, pushing at his chest. Deftly, he trapped my wrists in one hand above my head and kept on, alternating from side toside.

“What was it you were saying, babe?” He sounded amused, eyes shining withmirth.

“Stop…”-gasp, laugh, wiggle-“Please!”

“Stop what?This?”

He dug harder still, growing cockier by the second. I struggled, and struggled some more, until he laid himself flat against me and used both hands toattack.

Too cocky, too quick,baby.

With my hands free, I locked my legs around his waist and sunk my fingers into his sides, stunning him beyond belief. He stilled and a deep, guttural laugh erupted from his throat, granting me the opportunity to regain control. In one swift move, I had him on his back, holding his arms hostage above his head, my hair, a messy mane of curls after his assault coming down around us like aveil.

“Pinned ya,” I purred, my inner-Nala coming out toplay.

“You've watched that movie too manytimes.”

The smile that lit up his fine face painted a matching one on my own. “Yeah well, it's my favorite. The Princesses never appealed tome.”

“That's cause you're not a Princess. You're aQueen.”

“Damn right I am,” I smirked victoriously, bring a hand loosely around his throat. “And asyour Queen,I'm demanding you refrain from leaving your soiled garments on the floor of our royalchamber.”

“Or what,” he challenged, his Adam’s apple bobbing against mypalm.

“Or I'll be forced to beheadyou.”

“So how can I redeem myself, oh powerful Queen?” he asked, effortlessly rolling me onto myback.

Like reflex, my legs came around him, my arms too. Our lips brushed as he stared into my eyes, diffusing my initial irritation further. No matter how often we bickered, I could never stay mad at him for long. His playfulness assuredit.

“Just pick up your shit,” I blurted out when his hand slid its way from my thigh to mywaist.

“So crass, my Queen. But how are you so certain said shit is only mine,” hecountered.

“Look at it. Every single piece of clothing isyours.”

“No, it'snot.”

“Yes, itis.”

“It's not,” he insisted, sinking to the floor between mylegs.

“It is. What are you-” I began, only to stop mid-sentence when he all but ripped my jeans off my legs and tossed them onto the floor behindhim.

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