She glares at me. “Like I’m ever going to show up at your door.”
“Never say never.” I cock my brow. “Bet you didn’t think you’d be begging me either, but look how that turned out.”
She picks up a napkin, crumples it into a ball, and throws it at me. “Why are you such a bastard?”
I shrug. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She stares at me, those steely eyes of hers sparking before she says, “Well, anyway…”
I chuckle again and put my elbows on the table. “You sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“Always. But things are under control, and I’m at your disposal.”
“Oh, really?”
I meet her skeptical gaze. “Really.”
Her forehead wrinkles, like she’s thinking something through. Then she sits forward. “Will you help me make all the beds? Mrs. Potts was going to do it, but Natalie had an episode, so she needs to take care of her at the moment.”
I stand, walk around the table, and hold out my hand to her. “Let’s get it done.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re tucking a sheet around the last of the bed corners, and I’ve teased her into laughing, which makes me happy. She unfolds the flat sheet and, with a flick of her wrist, it billows out over the middle of the bed.
I take a hold of the corner. “Did you and your brothers ever lay under the covers and have someone fluff them over you?”
She shakes her head. “No, did you? I thought you were an only child.”
“I am, but I had a neighbor.”
She raises a brow. “Was this neighbor a girl?”
“Of course.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you’re a smart woman.”
“And you’re a pervert,” she shoots back.
I put my knee on the bed, lunge over to snatch her wrist, and pull her tumbling down onto the bed.
She screeches and tries to scramble off, but I hold her down, rolling over on top of her. I’m certain Catarina McKay needs more fun in her life, and I’m just the man to give it to her. I slide my knee between her legs, and she opens for me. I wrap her wrists in my hands and bring them over her head. “I didn’t get really perverted until much later.”
Her breath sucks in. “I don’t believe you.”
“With age comes deviance.”
Her lashes flutter. “The bed.”
“Uh-huh.” One hand still holding her wrists, I use the other to trail over her rib cage.
“We should stop.” Her gaze darts toward the open door. “Anyone could see us.”
I lower my head, letting the tip of my tongue brush the seam of her lips. “Is that so?”
She nods, but her mouth parts and I sink in, letting her scent seep into me. I shift, deepening the contact, eating at her mouth until she’s out of breath and straining against me.