My hand drifts lower on his chest, my nails raking lightly over his abs. “You didn’t seem to feel that way the other night when you snuck into my bed.”
“Sweetheart, if I married every girl I’ve ever finger-banged…”
I choke out a horrified laugh and put my hand over his mouth. “Maybe don’t finish that sentence.”
His eyes relax a little, maybe even reflect a smile, and he surprises me by kissing the palm of my hand before gently pulling my wrist away from his face. “What is it you’re looking for?”
“More of what I felt last night. And the night before that.”
Noah’s eyes narrow. “And that’s all? Just a quick fuck with the hired help before you go back to real life?”
My lips part. “Hey, that’s not—”
“I’m not complaining,” he interrupts. “Because if that’s what you’re looking for, and all you’re looking for, I’m happy to oblige.”
“You’re telling me not to get the wrong idea,” I say with a little smile.
Noah jerks his head in the direction of the grill. “You have to admit, the cozy dinner scene doesn’t exactly scream no-strings-attached.”
“I’ll take full responsibility for planning the dinner, but you’re the one who saw it through,” I remind him.
He plucks the wineglass out of my hand, setting it aside before his hands find my hips. He presses closer, his hips spreading my thighs wider as he slowly lowers his face to my neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin there. “My motives were impure. I was trying to get you into bed.”
I gasp as he licks my neck. “I hate to tell you this, but a big juicy rib eye isn’t exactly known for being an aphrodisiac.”
“Then why are you wet right now?” he asks, his teeth scraping along the column of my throat.
“I’m not.”
I feel him smile. “Liar.”
My hands lift to the back of his head, my legs spreading wider to pull him close. “Okay, maybe I am. But I’d still like to point out that you’re the one that cooked dinner.”
“Maybe I made you the food because I wanted you to get your strength up for what I plan to do to you.”
I bite my lip to keep from asking for details. To stop myself from begging him to talk dirty to me. It’s criminal how much I want this guy.
I don’t understand it.
But neither do I want to fight it.
“I had a snack,” I whisper.
He pulls back to look at me. “Is that Jenny Dawson’s way of telling me she’s ready for me to fuck her?”
My core throbs at the rough words. What is he doing to me? How?
I nod, and his eyes turn molten before he eases closer once more. This time when his hands wrap around my hips it’s to yank me forward, pulling me off the railing until my bare feet touch the porch.
“Not going to ravish me out here?” I ask, unsure if I’m relieved or disappointed.
“Ever have a mosquito bite on your ass, princess?”
An excellent point.
Noah takes my hand and pulls me toward the back door, giving a sharp single whistle for the dogs to follow.
They beat us inside, immediately heading for the stairs in a clatter of claws on hardwood.