“You’re crazy,” I tell her with a smile.
“You’re just now figuring this out?” Her brows are crinkled like I just told her that I learned how to add two plus two.
I chuckle, running my hand up her thigh and staying really far away from her feet.
“I want you to stay at my place tonight,” I tell her honestly, the words popping out before I realize I’m thinking them. “I want you in my arms all night.”
She blinks slowly, like she’s letting my words sink in deep, and then a beaming smile spreads across her face. “I’ll have to let Nut and Juice out before we go to bed, and again first thing in the morning, but I think that can be arranged.”
Chapter 20
Poppy
Smack!
I can’t help it, I giggle at Connor’s playful swat on my butt. I mean, I did just tweak his nipple when he came in to get me out of bed. But we’d just spent a half hour snuggling, and despite his reminders that we both have deadlines to meet, I didn’t want to get up. Not even when he got up and started coffee, coming back to find me hugging his pillow and inhaling his scent like a creeper.
“Come on now, the sausage biscuits aren’t going to stay fresh forever,” he mock growls, trying to sound strict and utterly failing. Oh, I’m sure to most people he still sounds like a stern, grumpy asshole.
But I know him now, and I know that growl. It’s his way of saying, ‘Let me feed you and take care of you.’ But only with me. To everyone else, that growl is still a warning sign of impending doom.
We unlocked a lot of emotional doors and rocked a lot of foundations inside each other last night, and I think Connor’s still uncomfortably digesting some of it. His grouchiness is his way of saying, ‘I’m not denying all that happened, I just need a little time to unpack it, examine it, and figure this shit out.’
I don’t mind giving him some time, though, because I know what I feel, and I’m a bit more open to happy, lovey-dovey emotions. Okay, a lot more receptive, but he’ll get there.
I sit up, shaking out my wild and freshly fucked bedhead. “Okay, okay,” I reply. “I might be a little underdressed, though.”
Connor isn’t wearing anything fancy, just a T-shirt and athletic shorts, but it’s a heck of a lot more than the absolutely nothing I’ve got on. I gesture to my naked body, scanning my own skin. Oops, it looks like I’ve got a fresh hickey on my right boob and a few fingerprints on my thighs.
Connor looks me over too, seeming quite pleased with himself for the love marks he left behind. “Here,” Connor says, pulling his T-shirt off and offering it to me.
My eyes dance over his skin too, taking twisted pleasure in the fading pink lines my nails scored over his chest. I know there are matching ones on his back too. We were rough, but in an amazing way I’d love to repeat.
I inhale his T-shirt, moaning happily before pulling it over my head. I could wear this all day. I twist my hair up into its usual messy bun on top of my head, knotting it in on itself so it’ll stay without a ponytailer. Happy with my new morning attire, I get out of bed and follow him to the kitchen, where the delicious smells make my stomach growl instantly.
It’s just good rich coffee and sausage biscuits from the oven, but as we sit down with our mugs, his in the seven ways to kill you mug and mine in a plain white one, it feels perfect and homey. My legs are folded up inside his oversized T-shirt, so my knees are near my chin, making it look like I have watermelon boobs, aka big and long. I blow him a kiss over the rim of my mug.
“Good morning.”
Connor lifts one brow and takes a sip of his coffee. “‘Morning,” he growls. “Although if it had been your choice, it would have been afternoon.”
I can’t keep the smile from my lips, especially after last night.
“What?”
I take another sip of coffee, then pick up my sausage biscuit. “You like me,” I brag. “No man shares his Jimmy Dean unless he likes you.”
“Meh, you’re all right,” he deadpans. “I guess.”
I take a huge bite of my sausage biscuit, chewing noisily. When Connor doesn’t groan in disgust, it only proves my point, and I grin . . . after swallowing my mouthful. “You don’t like many people, you said so yourself. But you like me.”
The declaration is strong and proud because I’m completely certain. And also, wiggling happily in my chair, making my knee-boobs dance. Because I know for damn sure he likes my body.