Page 92 of Show Me How
“And waste the gas?”
“It’s a minute drive.”
“Did you follow me just to scold me?”
Tightening my jaw, I squeeze her thighs. “No.”
“So, it was to apologize, then?”
“Apologize?” I almost choke.
She hums boldly. “For getting so grumpy for no reason.”
“Grown men don’t get grumpy.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it. If I said or did something to bother you, I want you to tell me. Wasn’t it you who made a whole show of needing honesty?”
“You know, I don’t remember you being so goddamn sassy the night we met,” I grunt.
She grows quiet for a moment, and I almost blurt out an apology before she says, “I wasn’t myself that night.”
“And now you are?”
“Yes, I think so. Or at least more than I was then.”
Well, fuck.
Loosening my hold on her thighs, I stroke my thumbs across them and force up a rough “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She leans her head against mine, her cheek to my ear. The office appears in front of us, and I slow my pace, hoping she doesn’t notice. The slight rub of her cheek to the side of my head has me debating turning us right back around.
“Shelly suggested we start a book club the other day,” she says suddenly.
My brain lags. “A book club? The two of you?”
“Yep! I think it would be fun. But I’m not sure if there are enough readers in town.”
“What type of book club?”
“Romance.”
I chuckle, readjusting her when she starts to slip. “Stupid question.”
“Don’t even try it, Shade.”
“Try what?” I ask innocently.
“I know you’re just itching to make a bad joke. Something about how I shouldn’t need sex lessons when I’ve got books, right?”
“Absolutely not.”
She shakes her head as much as she can without pulling it away from mine. “Right.”
“Watching a shit ton of porn doesn’t mean you’ll actually know how to do the things you saw, princess. I’m not thinking any of that shit right now. I promise.”
“Do you read?” she asks after a beat.
