Page 12 of Feast

She found it invigorating, but that was no reason not to give him shit over it. “You’re staring.”

“I’m trying to decide if you’re beautiful.”

Invigorating, and possibly annoying. “Oh, really?”

“You’re attractive,” he went on, his gaze flicking from her face down her body and back again. “And that body is fucking bombshell. But I think I’d describe you as cute rather than beautiful.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” she drawled, deadpan, and was rewarded with a flashing grin.

“That doesn’t bother you,” he said, and though it wasn’t a question, she answered anyway.

“I like how I look,” she told him with a shrug. “And other people’s opinions of me aren’t my business.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “That’s a very healthy outlook.”

“I know.” And finding that outlook had taken her years of therapy. “You’re not handsome, in case you were wondering.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“You’re attractive,” she continued. “And very sexy. But all the scowling makes you seem intense, and maybe a little scary.”

“You don’t look scared.”

“I don’t spook easily,” she told him. “And intense works for me in bed.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes flickered. “Does it?”

“Mmm,” she murmured and imagined him looming over her in the dark, holding her down. She sighed dreamily, then frowned when a sudden thought occurred to her. “This tiger vibe you’ve got going on doesn’t turn pussy cat in the sack, does it?”

A glimmer of humor crossed his expression. “Not exactly.”

Thank God. “Good. Got any kinks?”

“Oh, a few,” he drawled.

“Well?” she asked when he stayed silent.

He watched her for a moment, dark eyes assessing, then he seemed to come to a decision. “I like to be in charge.”

Oh, boy. “How in charge?”

“As much as you’ll let me be.”

She wanted to leap up and do a happy dance, but she didn’t want to tip her hand. “That could be a lot of in charge.”

His eyes were gleaming like fired coals. “Yeah?”

“Within reason,” she amended, common sense clicking in a beat behind her libido. “I reserve the right to veto anything I don’t like.”

“Of course,” he allowed. “As do I.”

“Of course,” she echoed.

“You got a name, 3B?”

“Sure.”

He waited a beat. “You gonna tell me?”