Page 50 of Lavender Lake
I grinned around my toothbrush. “I know jealousy is supposed to be a red flag, but I gotta tell you, I’m totally here for it.”
He growled, and then rinsed his toothbrush. He eyed me again and his brows raised.
Bowman’s finger touched the ink peeking out the top of my boxers. Before I could say anything, he lowered the elastic waist and saw the tattoo in all its glory.
“Jean Luc,” he read, his eyes darting up to mine.
I batted his hand away. “You saw my ink the other night.”
“I did, but I was kind of busy with other things,” he drawled. “I didn’t have time to ask about it. You have another tattoo, right?”
I mumbled confirmation around the toothbrush in my mouth.
“Show me.”
I spit in the sink. “No.”
“Guess I’ll have to discover it on my own.” He glowered.
“What?”
“How many men’s names do you have on your body?”
“Just the one.”
“So not Gideon’s?”
“Not Gideon’s,” I assured him.
He let out a slow, long breath as if he was trying to stop himself from ripping out the sink counter with his bare hands.
“Jean Luc I can deal with. Gideon I cannot.”
“Why?” I frowned, rinsing my toothbrush. “Jean Luc’s name doesn’t bother you?”
“I don’t know Jean Luc. I’ve met Gideon. The idea of his name inked permanently on your skin . . . it pisses me off to no end.”
“I didn’t know you cared so much, Caspian.” I fluttered my eyelashes at him, and then let out another laugh when his jaw clenched.
But my laughter faded when Bowman stalked toward me. He had me backed against the sink counter before I knew what was happening. He caged me in with his strong arms.
“Careful, Powell.” His voice was a whisper against my skin as he pressed his thigh against my cleft. “Don’t toy with me.”
“Who’s toying?” I purred, my fingers clasping the counter as I thrust my breasts forward.
My nipples grazed his chest.
One of his hands left the counter to come up and touch a tender spot on my flesh. “I plan on giving you many more hickeys. In places easily covered. Just say the word.”
“Word,” I taunted.
With another growl, he pushed away and put space between us.
“I’m making coffee,” he grumbled and turned.
I watched him walk away, giddy with the thrill of the chase.
Oh, what would I do when he caught me?
