“Sull—”
“So, I made a couple of changes to the apartment.”
“What kind of changes?”
“Don’t be mad?” He pushes open the door before I can ask what there might be to be mad about.
My gaze trains immediately on the bed at the back of the studio apartment. A real life bed with sheets, pillows, and a comforter.
“What is that?” I ask, hardly able to find words. How the hell did the man sneak a full-sized bed into my apartment? It’s not like I was in another building. And did he muscle that thing in here by himself?
“If you’d rather sleep on that shitty cot, I can dig it out of the dumpster.”
“Don’t you dare.” I tug him inside and kick the door closed behind us. I snake my hands up his neck and drag his mouth to mine to offer him a proper thank you—with my tongue.
CHAPTER 8
Sullivan
When Lila’s mouth fuses to mine, I lose the last of the restraint I was barely holding onto. I flip her around, until she’s the one pushed up against the door. I tunnel my hands into her hair, tugging at the ponytail holder until it gives away.
“So much better,” I growl between kisses.
“You say that until you find a hair in your rum cupcake.”
God, this woman is so fucking funny. She’s the sarcastic sunshine I didn’t know I needed in my life. I don’t know how any of this works, but in this moment, I don’t give a fuck about figuring that out. I only know I want her more than I’ve wanted anyone—or anything—in a long damn time.
She arches her lower back, letting out a yowl when her hips bump my toolbelt.
“Shit, sorry.”
I reach around to undo to the clasp, but her hand grips my wrist. “Leave it,” she insists.
“Is this some type of chastity belt thing? Because I was under the distinct impression that you wanted a good, hard fuck earlier. And don’t try to pretend you were joking. If I’d pulled over on the side of the road, you’d have been begging for my cock before I was in park.”
“You’re not wrong,” she admits, slowing undoing the buttons of my flannel.
“What do you want then, Lila?”
“I want to see how you look in this toolbelt and nothing else.” When she flicks her gaze up to mine, her blue eyes are two shades darker. She wore the same heated look when I got her back to my cabin all those weeks ago. Right before I ravaged her in my bed.
Fuck, I go instantly hard.
I kick off my boots to help move things along. But I let her do the rest. There’s something incredibly sexy about being undressed by this woman.
She’s the only woman I want undressing me—for the rest of my life.
The thought packs a punch, making me question if we can keep going. Because I can’t imagine some bullshit no strings attached arrangement working between us. Not anymore. Her hold on me is way too fucking strong.
“Lila,” I say as she slips my flannel off my shoulders.
“Hmm?”
“There’s something you should know,” I say, fighting through the impulse to shut my mouth while she rids me of the rest of my clothes.
“Is this about what Edie said this morning?” she asks, reaching for the button on my jeans, then the zipper. She’s careful as she tugs them down over my hips, both with the toolbelt still hanging there and with my erect cock pitching a tent in my boxers.
“You heard that?”