Page 101 of What About Love

“I kind of thought that, but next time, can you give me a thumb’s-up so I know when you’re kidding?”

“Give you a thumbs-up?”

“Or a hand signal, so I’ll know.”

“Like raising my hand?”

Leaning back against his arm to see his face, she frowned when she saw his grin and realized he was playing again.

“T, I was being serious.”

“What can I say? I enjoy teasing you, little bit.”

“I noticed.”

“And messing with your head...”

“Yeah, I got that, too.”

“And your body.” Proving his words true, he lowered his head and captured a nipple between his lips. The bud grew instantly to pebbled hardness as he suckled. With he caught it firmly between his teeth, he added around the hard tip, “Because you’re even hotter when you’re ticked off.”

“T.” This time her protest was more of a tormented moan as she slid her fingers into his hair and held on.

Long minutes later, after his mouth had robbed her of breath and intelligent thought, he lifted his head. His tongue came out and gave each rosy-pink peak another flick. “Fuck that. You’re hotter all the time.”

When she blinked up at him blearily, she inquired, “Is this how you’re going to win every fight?”

“Did it work?”

“God, yes.”

The warmth of his laugh brushed over her wet skin, and she moaned at the torment.

“Then count on it, baby.” With a last feather-light touch of his lips against hers, he straightened. “Sadly, that’s enough playing for now. We need to eat and get a move on.”

He set her away. When she made no move toward the table, he turned her around and, with a gentle pat, sent her in that direction.

“Coffee,” she mumbled, making a beeline to the pot.

“Warm me up, will ya?”

Once she’d poured and carried both of their mugs to the table, something occurred to her. “Uh, T? About tonight. What if I had other plans?”

“We’d rearrange things.” She watched as he slid perfectly fried eggs onto two plates—four on one, two on the other—along with golden-brown buttered toast and crispy bacon. With a plate in each hand, he came to the table. “Do you? Have other plans, that is?”

“No, but—”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“For future reference.”

“Angie, quit messing around and thinking up problems we don’t have.” He bent sideways, enough to kiss the top of her head as he set her plate in front of her then took his seat across from her. “I’m not such a hard-ass that I don’t know how to compromise.”

“Yeah? What about Dan being hands-off? Was that compromise or penis shit?”

He barked out a laugh. “I think you know, darlin’, and let’s refer to my shit as dom shit and leave my penis out of it.”

She choked on her cough and spewed a little, which he found hilarious.

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