Down and Out(42)

“You know what? Don’t stop. ’Cause you and I both know there’s only one way for this end, and that’s with me inside you.”
That seems to do the trick. Her lips purse as she squints at me. It’s the cutest glare I’ve ever seen.
She yanks the towel out of my hand and wraps it around her as she stalks out of the kitchen, calling out, “I still won,” over her shoulder.





Work is surprisingly boring without Declan around. I didn’t realize how much I like our little tête-à-têtes throughout the day, whenever he has a few minutes to spare. Now I find myself with nothing to look forward to.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I have something to look forward to right now, because the gym closed five minutes ago and I’ve already put fresh towels in the locker room for tomorrow morning. It’s quittin’ time.
The rear door closes behind me, the slam of the heavy metal echoing in the empty parking lot as I bound up the stairs to the apartment. Declan’s lounging on the couch as I walk in, and he turns and smiles at me as I close the front door.
“How was it?”
“Fine,” I say, heading into the kitchen. “A little uneventful, but fine.”
I pull open the fridge and grab a bottle of water, twisting off the cap as Declan gets up and comes over. His movements are still kind of slow and it gives me plenty of time to appreciate the way his low-slung pajama pants cling to his hips. Plaid never looked so sexy.
I take a long drink, hoping the cold water will put out the fire raging inside me. It doesn’t, of course, because he chooses to lean against the counter with his hands gripping the thick granite on both sides of him. It makes the muscles in his forearms look just . . . wow.
You’re killing me, dude.
He grins. “And by uneventful, you mean boring.”
I shrug and put the cap back on. He’s not exactly wrong.
“You missed me today,” he says in an accusatory tone.
Setting the bottle on the countertop, I cross my arms in a defensive stance. “I missed having someone to talk to, sure, but I wouldn’t say I missed you.”
He pushes himself away from the counter. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less true.” He grabs my bottle of water, unscrews the cap, and takes a sip, all while watching me.
I scowl at him, hating the way he’s making me flustered. “I wasn’t done with that.”
His brow lifts as he holds out the open bottle, the back of his free hand wiping away an errant drop on his lip. The gesture is another little dare, like the butter incident, and I wonder what this game is.
How can I play if I don’t know the rules?
Uncrossing my arms, I take the bottle from him, but don’t drink. He tosses me the bottle cap, and I catch it as he leans against the counter next to me.
“Well, you don’t have to miss me tomorrow. I’ve got a delivery guy coming in the morning, so I have to be there for that.”
My head jerks up. “What? No, you need to rest. Can’t I take care of it?”
He shrugs, his mouth turning down as he thinks about it. “Maybe. All you need to do is verify the items against the order form and sign for it.”
It sounds easy enough. I nod and say, “I can do that.”
A crooked grin touches his lips. “Okay . . . but what do I get out of it?”
I frown, not understanding his meaning at first, but when I do, I’m livid. “What do you get out of it? I’m trying to help you, and you’re bargaining with me?”
Those damn dimples come out. “Yep.”
Lowering my gaze, I ask him warily, “What do you want?”
“A date.”
My eyes dart back up. “A date?” I wasn’t really expecting that. Some kind of sexual favor, yes. A date, no.
He nods and moves forward slowly, until I’m backed into the corner. His hands rest on the countertop, caging me in, as his mouth hovers next to my ear. “I like you, Kitten. Now what are we gonna do about that?”
His breath brushes my ear and I try not to shiver, however I can’t stop my eyes from briefly closing. I don’t want him to know the effect he has on me, so I scoff and place my hands on his stomach, pushing him away while simultaneously trying not to groan at the hard muscle beneath his thin t-shirt.
“We are not going to do anything about it. It sounds like it’s your problem, not mine.”
Green eyes sear into mine. “There’s a spark between us.” His fingers graze my jaw, making goose bumps break out along my suddenly overheated skin. “I feel it. You feel it. And I’m sorry, but I can’t pretend like it’s not there anymore.” He trails down the column of my neck and I swallow as he leans in, his face inches away. The tip of his finger dips inside the neck of my shirt as he traces my collarbone. “I don’t think you can, either. You know why?”
Words . . . I can’t manage them. I simply shake my head.
He closes the distance between us, brushing his lips against mine in the lightest, softest, barely-there kiss before he says, “Because you’re still touching me.”
Holy hell, he’s right. My hands are still pressed against his abs like they’re superglued in place.
I recoil immediately and duck under his arm, side-stepping the intimate confines of his arms. “Okay, so I’m attracted to you. Every other woman on the face of the planet would be too if they came face-to-face with you.”
Turning his head, he rests his hand back on the countertop, bracing himself against the corner. “I’m not interested in every other woman on the face of the planet. Just you.” He pushes off and faces me, crossing his arms. “So, you see my predicament.”