Page 39 of Breaking the Rules
He's Brendon's spy.
But I think he's trying.
He did thank me for dinner. Then compliment my pesto penne again and again.
And now he's fixing coffee.
He's not all bad.
"You don't take orders," he says.
"Why should I?"
"Besides my daddy fetish?"
"If you keep joking about that, I'm going to reverse my ruling."
"Good." His lips curl into a smile that lights up his blue eyes.
He is teasing.
And serious.
Not about the kink.
About wanting me to believe it.
Wanting me to find him repulsive.
Which is kind of ridiculous.
He spends God knows how much time at the gym perfecting his biceps. He wants every other woman on the planet to gawk. And I'm supposed to see his perfect ass and thinkdamn, I don't want to touch that.
"I think the lady doth protest too much," I say.
"You're quoting Shakespeare?"
"Yeah." Okay, I stole that one from Kaylee. She was quoting Shakespeare nonstop last semester, during her British literature class. "He has good shit."
"You've readHamlet?"
"I did go to high school, yes."
"Then you know what I'm getting at."
"The dirty talk, yeah." My cheeks flush. "Ophelia knows how to get what's hers."
"Yeah."
"Are we allowed to talk about this?" I mean to sound teasing. To push him. Remind him what a hypocrite he is. Instead, my voice wavers. I stumble over the words. I'm still stiff and awkward when it comes to sex.
"As much as we're allowed to look at what's on page two hundred twenty-three." He sets the pot of water on the counter. Pulls two mugs from a high shelf.
He already has the lay of the land.
"How long have you been here?" I ask.
"A few days."
