Looking at his plate, he asks, “You got things to do today?”
“I’m behind on work.”
He nods thoughtfully.
“What are you up to?”
“I work on the house on Sundays.”
“What house?”
“My house.”
Surprised, I say, “You have a house?”
He glances up at me and nods. “Building one on the other side of the island.”
“You’re building a house? From scratch?”
“No, from origami swans.”
I smile at him. “There’s that devastating sense of humor again. Seriously, you’re really building a house from the ground up?”
He gives me a look like I should already know he’s fully capable of that and any other project he might set his mind to. Like, say, constructing a spacecraft from recycled aluminum cans.
“Wow, Aidan. That’s impressive.”
He nods, turning his attention back to his eggs.
“Can I see it?”
He freezes. His eyes flash up to mine. He says gruffly, “You want to?”
“Of course I do. Why are you shocked?”
He shakes his head and looks down at his plate. I impatiently let him ruminate on his answer, knowing he might never provide one but holding out hope.
Then he says quietly, “Still not sure what the parameters are.”
It’s not a lot, but it’s enough. “Me neither. How about if we figure it out as we go along?”
He glances up to meet my gaze. “Or we could decide right now.”
“Is that what you want?”
His nod is curt.
I smile at him and tease, “So we’re negotiating.”
He says sourly, “Funny.”
“It’s just that I remember how it’s your favorite thing.”
Without missing a beat, he says, “Being inside you is my favorite thing. Making you come is my favorite thing. Knowing you don’t do one-night stands but you made an exception for me is my favorite thing. Everything else is now a distant second.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as my ears grow hot.
He says more softly, “Tell me to stop talking like that and I will. I don’t want to scare you.”
I consider him. In a simple white T-shirt and jeans, he’s tense and unsmiling, and so handsome it seems impossible.
Holding his gaze, I say, “You know you don’t scare me.”
“I meant scare you away.”
“I know what you meant. My answer’s the same.”
We stare at each other across the table until he pushes his plate away and sits back in his chair. His voice low and his gaze burning, he says, “Come here.”
He’s got that predatory look in his eyes again, as if he’s the hunter and I’m his prey. Every nerve ending in my body responds to it, standing on end at full attention. My pulse, respiration, and body temperature jump.
Moistening my lips, I stand and slowly walk around the table.
As soon as I’m within reach, he grabs my wrist and pulls me down onto his lap. He sinks his hands into my hair and brings my face close to his as I flatten my hands over his pecs.
Gazing deep into my eyes, he says gruffly, “Tell me what you want.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “To keep doing this. To get to know you better. To spend time with you and see where it goes.”
He licks his lips. His gaze drops to my mouth. “What else?”
I swallow nervously, then whisper, “To please you.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.”
His breathing turns ragged. His erection digs into my bottom. Beneath my palms, his heart drums a fast, staccato beat.
“Give your lion a kiss, bunny. Make it sweet.”
The roughness of his tone and the need in his eyes makes me tremble. I take his face in my hands and press a soft kiss to his mouth. Then I rub my cheek against his, closing my eyes and sighing in pleasure as his beard tickles my skin.
He murmurs my name.
“Yes, sir?”
A delicate little shudder runs through his chest when I call him that. He mutters, “Christ. You’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”
“Oh, come on, Fight Club. You’re tough. You can handle it.”
He kisses me, devouring my mouth, softly groaning into it as he holds my head steady and takes what he needs. When he breaks the kiss, we’re both breathing hard.
He gazes into my eyes with an expression of agony.
Surprised, I trace a fingertip over his bottom lip and whisper, “Aidan. What is it?”