Page 80 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“That wasn’t sex.” It was foreplay which I very much hoped wasn’t leading into sex.

“I also told you, you’d like it.”

Well look at him. Mr. I’m right about everything.

“Ugh, whatever.” I rolled my eyes and stomped up the steps.

This conversation was useless.

Gio snicked,” If you want more all you have to do is ask.”

I glared him as he strode past me to take the lead. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Only if I can come on your face again.”

This asshole.

That was it. I wasn’t talking to him anymore.

Unfortunately for me, silence was not my friend. Without verbal conflict to distract me my eyes began to wander. I looked down at the chair in the entryway, at the red rug running up the middle of the hardwood steps, and at the back of the man in front of me. The very firm and sculpted back. I could see the outline of hard ridges pressing against the fabric of his shirt. Especially in the shoulder are.

Also, Gio should always wear jeans. That denim fabric made his butt looked abnormally firm. I tipped head and watched his ass flex.

Left cheek.

Right cheek.

Left cheek.

Right cheek.

It was kind of mesmerizing.

Wait… why was I staring at his ass? This was not some boring trip to one of Maw Maw’s pot luck Sundays, where I was looking for something to do. This was the enemies’ domain. Not some place where I could practice air guitar in a closet. I needed to keep my head in the game and not on Gio’s butt.

“Where are we going?” I asked, because clearly silence was not the way to go.

Gio rounded the top of the stairs and turned to the left. “Where I tell you to go.”

Well, that clarified things.

I glanced over the balcony to the entryway on the floor below and wondered how much force I would have to use to push him over the banister. If I timed it right then he might break his back on that navy armchair.

“You still have a punishment coming.”

Damnit, I was trying not to think about that.

“What kind of punishment?” Not that I expected him to answer, I just couldn’t take the silent death march, down the hallway of glamor.

There were less paintings hung on the wall in the museum, and that was before I took into account the tiny useless tables holding vases and various stone busts. Who needed that much artwork?

“That depends on you.”

And the vagueness continues.

“Are you going to spank me again Daddy?”

“Keep it up.” Gio shot me a look that curled the corner of my mouth.

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