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I huff. “Can’t be a kitty with this hot ass.” I find some sassiness amid the bad mood.
He stares at it and slaps it hard. “Fuck yes you can.” He swallows my gasp when he lowers his head for a wet kiss. “Like seeing you in my clothes,” he whispers in my ear before moving to the mail on the table.
I blush like a shy schoolgirl and turn toward the counter, utterly shocked by this new development. Rague seems more relaxed today. Is that a post-sex perk? He drops some of his tough exterior at times with me. But this is different.
I sigh and busy myself making sandwiches. “Do you want a sandwich for lunch, or should I share them with this Martin guy?”
I’m pushed against the counter a second later by his big, imposing body. Slowly, he picks up the kitchen knife and continues making the sandwich while I stand in the circle of his arms.
“Let’s make something clear here.” He presses his hardening cock between my ass cheeks. “You don’t share anything with anyone but me.”
“How about a few words?” I quip, annoyed by his bossy tone—a part of me is turned on as well, a smaller part. “Can I havepermissionto talk? Or should I mime my thoughts?”
He tightens his grip on the knife handle before stabbing it into the wooden board. My cock leaks. Apparently, broody and dangerous does it for me big time. “That snarky mouth of yours will force me to fuck your too-sore ass against this counter.”
I grab a Ziplock bag and slide a couple sandwiches inside. “Didn’t you get enough of it?” There’s a hint of vulnerability in my voice, but I pretend not to hear it.
“Fucking never, Ollie. I told you I own this hole.”
There’s a terribly wonderful churn in my belly; it must be caused by his enormous dick stroking between my cheeks. Not because he sounds fucking sure and possessive. But instead of terrifying me, I feel high. I got it bad.
Without thinking, I take a bite of one of his four sandwiches before sliding it into the bag.
“What was that? Still hungry?” he whispers with a hint of amusement in his voice.
I freeze, feeling my cheeks turn crimson. “Lunch food is better when shared,” I simply say, remembering one of Lori’s grandma’s life mottos. “Since I can’t share it with anybody else, I’m doing it with you.” I turn my head toward him to gauge his expression, and I’m breathless. He’s trying to stifle a smile, and the teasing way he’s looking at me sparks a warm glow in my chest.
Relaxed Rague, and now teasing Rague. Another post-sex perk?
“There is a faint dimple in your left cheek when your smile deepens.” My fingers lightly brush his jaw when he suddenly flinches away, an angry look filling his eyes. My hand is frozen midair, and although I know I shouldn’t take it personally, the rejection hurts. Something terrible must have happened to him to make him deny himself such a common way of contact. I thought it was getting slightly better because of the way he let me touch him yesterday. I was wrong.
Forty minutes later, we’re entering Carver Construction and Demolition’s office.
There’s a woman reading a thick book, looking like a platinum blonde queen, behind a horseshoe desk.
When her eyes lift to us her lilac lips stretch into a big smile. “‘Morning boss, and who do we have here?” She’s sliding her hungry eyes up and down my body, leaning her ample bosom on the shiny desk surface. I feel a bit violated—and strangely flattered. “Hello, cupcake. So very, very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Margery, right? I’m Ollie. Rague talks highly of you, now I know why,” I flirt right back.
She lets out a giggle. I can’t detect her age. In her forties, presumably, but her skin looks flawless. I hope I’ll get to her age without a wrinkle.
“Oh, thank you. He’d be lost without me.” She puckers her lips and looks at Rague. “But he doesn’t appreciate my ass enough. How about you? What do you think?”
“I can’t see it from here. Would you do a catwalk for me?”
“Meoowww,” she swipes her long nails at me.
“Love the glittery violet nail polish. OPI?” I ask her, remembering Lori’s favorite brand.
“Yes!” Her eyes sparkle. “It’s called Feelin’ Libra-ted. I’m a Libra.”
“It all makes sense now. I have a friend who’d love to meet you.”
“Awww, you’re such a cupcake.”
I’m about to reply when Rague closes his hand around my nape, and I’m yanked to his side. Anoomphescapes my mouth when my chest hits his hard body. One of my hands falls to the waist of his jeans for balance, while I force the other by my side. I try to touch him as little as possible, even more so since the kitchen incident.
“Hey!” I glare at him, having to tilt my head way back. Damn it, he’s tall.
