Page 41 of Run, Little Bunny

She’s such a brat, and I love it. Does she really want all that? Fuck. I might have to propose. Are we really that aligned? “Taunting is a dangerous game,” I whisper.

“You said your hands would be on me all night. Are you a liar?”

“Full brat tonight?”

“You bring it out of me.”

A low grumble of exasperation and desire leaves me. “I want to be romantic, and you’re begging me to bend you over and punish you.”

Her face flushes a deep red, and I kiss her again. “Nothing to say now?”

“I think … we should focus on dinner,” she stammers, her face still hot.

“Good plan,” I agree, leaning down to kiss her again. I point to the leather couch in the living room. “Go relax. I’ll put your bag in my room. Do you want wine or something?”

“What are you making me for dinner?”

“I thought I’d feed you pasta for a change.” I wink and head toward the hallway.

“Then, red wine,” she says, settling onto the couch, her eyes following me.

“Be right back.”

I didn't want to make anything too complicated, especially since … well, distractions are definitely on my mind. And she’s already distracting.

“Are you a clean freak?” she calls from the living room.

“No.”

“This place is serial killer clean.”

I chuckle to myself.Why does she keep circling back to that?“I had my cleaning lady come by this morning to make sure it wasn’t a gross bachelor pad.”

“I doubt it’s ever gross if you have a cleaning lady.”

Debatable.

Tossing her bag onto the bed, I loudly exhale. I’m excited but nervous about sleeping with her, not because I don’t want this, but because I do—somuch. This isn’t a hookup. Tonight is so much more than that.

26

Chad hands me a glass of wine and leans down, placing a baby kiss on my lips. “Time to make you dinner,” he says, pulling back and heading toward the kitchen.

Even though I can see the kitchen from the couch, I stand and follow him. I want to be closer.

“You’re going to be my sous chef?” he teases.

“No. I’m going to watch from the front row.”

He smirks, opening cupboards and gathering what he needs. I hop up onto the countertop, my legs swinging with nervous energy. I take a sip of wine, trying to calm down, but I love this.

Watching him move around his kitchen, I start to fantasize about a future with Chad—us cooking meals together in this gorgeous, homey space. I didn’t expect his home to be this nice, but I feel so comfortable here.

Chad steals a sip of my wine as he passes by, then leans in and kisses my forehead. Am I dreaming? He’s being too damn cute. I replay our flirty moment from earlier. This man is not vanilla. Chad is going to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked—and I’m not mad about it. Smirking, I take another sip of wine.

“Where’s your drink?” I ask, surprised he hasn’t poured himself a glass or grabbed a beer.

“I can’t handle another distraction right now.”

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