Tipping his head, he folded his arms. “Are you done looking for reasons why it’s a bad idea instead of simply looking at the situation as a whole?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me what I missed,” I muttered.
“As I said before, you’ll be safer at my place. There’s also plenty of room and, unlike here, no clutter or mess for you to have a hernia over.”
“Funny.”
“You spend every night at my place and wake up there every morning. The only time you’ve been spending at your apartment were the hours between the end of your shift and the time you came to me. I don’t see how spending those extra hours here with me will be a major deal.”
“Sharing living space with someone is hard. Spending it with someone you don’t yet know—who’s hot buttons, habits, and needs you’re only just beginning to learn—would be even harder. What we have is still new and fragile. We need to be careful not to push it.”
His eyes narrowed, perceptive as ever. “You think I’ll find you difficult to live with.”
“You heard me and my mom talking at dinner. It’s not easy to live with people like us.”
“You may have noticed that I like a tidy home.”
I bit my lip. “I think your cleaner is awesome. Truly awesome. Her work is like art. But …”
His expression turned thoughtful. “You’d find it hard to have someone else organize and clean your territory,” he realized.
“Are you getting how weird I am yet? I couldn’t even let my mother clean my room, which incidentally made her crazy. Sarah doesn’t care, she’s laidback about stuff like that. You’re many things, Blake, but you are not laidback.” I rested a hand on his hard chest. “Please don’t push me on this. I’m not ready to unleash the full extent of my craziness on you.”
He hooked his arm around my neck and drew me closer. “Baby, it won’t matter. I’m well and truly reeled in.” He pressed a soft, lingering kiss on my mouth. “Give it a trial run. Seven days.”
“You’re not hearing me. You think I’m exaggerating.”
“I am hearing you, and I’m not taking your words lightly. But I want you with me.” He kissed me again and gave my bottom lip a brief suck. “I don’t think I’ll find it so bad, but we won’t know without giving it a go. Trial run?”
I let out a long breath, shaking my head incredulously. “You’re crazy.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“But you’d have to tell your cleaner to stop, well, cleaning.”
“I’ll tell her to take the week off. Then, if you decide you’d rather stay with Sarah, I can just call her back to work.”
He had an answer for freaking everything.
“Give it a try.”
“Fine, but I still think you’re crazy.”
Greg showed up a few minutes later. The guy was by no means a smiler, but he had a tiny little grin on his face as he helped us move my stuff to the SUV. That grin widened when he helped us move it all from his SUV up to Blake’s apartment.
Finally, it was time to unpack. Just before disappearing to make some calls, Blake told me to put my stuff anywhere I liked; that nowhere was off bounds to me, and that I was free to move his things if they were in my way. He also made some drawer and wardrobe space for me in his walk-in closet.
I didn’t unpack everything, since there were things I wouldn’t need while there—like my dishware, pillow and duvet, and toaster, for example. I left them in their boxes, intending to ask Blake where I could put them.
As I was taking items from my box of lingerie and neatly placing them in a drawer, he came strolling into the closet. Taking in the sight of my things merged with his, he looked … satisfied. Even smug. Which baffled me.
“I don’t know how this situation could possibly please you.”
He dipped his hand into the box containing my lingerie and began idly sifting through it. Then his hand froze. “Well, now.” He pulled out my curved, textured, penis-shaped vibrator. My stomach took a dive. Mouth curved in amusement, he studied it. “Why is it purple?”
Cheeks flushing, I shrugged. “I didn’t make it.” I held out my hand, but he didn’t give it to me. I straightened my shoulders, feeling stupidly defensive. “Fine. Put it back in the box when you’re done examining it.” With that, I returned to the bedroom, head held high.
Now that I’d finished unpacking my clothes, I closed the suitcase and set it against the wall, out of the way. I tore open another box, grabbing my bag of toiletries out of it, and I turned toward the bathroom. And I found Blake stood a few feet away, mouth still curved … and the vibrator still in his hand. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. “I’m almost done unpacking. Are we going to eat after that, because I’m starving?”
He began to advance on me. “I’m pretty hungry myself.” It was clear that it wasn’t food he wanted.
I backed up at the intensity in his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Baby, you can’t bring a vibrator into my home and expect me not to use it on you.”
Oh, shit. “I’m sort of busy right now—”
He reached out, snatched the bag of toiletries out of my hand, and dumped it on the nightstand. “You can make time for me.”
The back of my knees hit the foot of the bed, and I almost tumbled onto the mattress. I expected him to pounce, but he didn’t. He just kept gliding toward me with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes glittered, locked on me with the focus of a predator. So much wicked intent there. It wasn’t that I had anything against ‘wicked intent.’ I just didn’t trust the kinky bastard not to try shoving the vibrator in places it had no right being.
I pointed at the toy. “Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t go up my ass. Ever.”
He didn’t seem to like my sharp tone, because he shot me a look of warning. Then his hand cupped my chin. “When I take your ass for the first time—which won’t be today, no, it will be a time when you’re least expecting it—I won’t be taking it with a toy. I’ll be taking it with my cock.”
That didn’t really make me feel any better, since his cock was by no means small.
He dropped the vibrator on the bed. “Strip, Kensey. And don’t fuck around. Just do it.” It was a softly spoken order, but it left no room for negotiation. And that flipped a switch in my brain.
My earlier discovery had left me feeling like the world had been tugged from under me. Now I no longer had a home and was sharing living space—something I wasn’t good at. I felt unsettled. Anchorless. Like I’d lost some of the control I had over my own life. And I wasn’t in the mood to be taken over by Blake right then.
I jutted out my chin. “You want the clothes off? Then take them off.”
His brow very slowly lifted. “Didn’t I just tell you not to fuck around?”
“I believe you did, yes.”
Rubbing his nose against mine, he exhaled a sigh that was tinged with mock pity. “Oh, Kensey, Kensey, Kensey. You know better than that.” His hands snapped around my wrists, and he then held them firmly behind my back. He leaned a little of his weight against me—not enough to unbalance me, but enough to make me feel crowded; to show me that he was the one with the power here.