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And if the way his hands tighten on my waist is any indication, I don’t think he wants me to either.
When he speaks, it’s quiet but insistent. “The fact that I’m finding it hard to even recall another woman should tell you something.”
“Yeah, well... Shit.”
Slowly, he laughs. “You’re never going to win this argument.”
“Oh, no?”
“No. Because you’re begging the question.” His palm slides down my hip and then back up. “It is my opinion that your ass is perfect. Ergo, your ass is perfect to me.”
I can’t help laughing. “I cannot believe you’re pulling out philosophical constructs now.”
“Believe it, baby.” Happiness and a certain smugness lighten his voice. “I like debating with you.”
I like it too. I like him. “You realize I can use the same argument? Seeing as you’ve made the state of my ass a question of personal preference rather than a discussion of empirical facts.”
He chuckles, the laugh muffled by his lips pressed to my skin.
“And, anyway,” I add just a bit strangled. “You’re cheating.”
“How?” He sounds like he knows perfectly well how. He just doesn’t care.
“You attack only after putting me in this weakened condition.”
I’m proven correct when he grins. “I’m a competitor. What did you expect?”
“Not your face in my butt,” I mutter. But, in truth, his attention and care feel so damn good that I don’t want it to end. Ever. I want to lie here and let him do what he wants to me until I can’t remember my name. Or his. So of course, I tense up further.
“Relax, Jones,” he whispers, his fingers lightly tickling me as they drift along. “You can handle it.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not having your ass inspected at close range.”
Another chuckle rumbles. “You can inspect my ass. I won’t mind.”
“Baylor...” I warn.
“Jones...” he mocks. And then his tongue licks the curve of my butt cheek.
A pathetic whimper escapes me, and my head hits the mattress. He simply laughs in that husky, satisfied way again.
“If you can’t handle it, call this a boon,” he suggests before giving me a small nip.
“A boon?” It comes out way too close to a squeak.
“Yeah.” His breath is warm. “Like a reward for hauling my ass out here in the pouring rain for a booty call.”
“Oh, I see.” My breath hitches as he hits a sensitive spot. “So it’s a chore?”
I’m teasing now, and he knows it.
“Never said that.” He nuzzles, fucking nuzzles, my butt. “I said you could call it that if it makes you feel better. Me? I’d be here every day if you’d let me.”
I’m not going to get into that. But I can’t help but smile against my forearm. “And what boon do I get the next time you’re the one to call?”
He gives me another soft kiss. “Anything.”
The quick, yet steady way he answers sends a little thrill through me. He might have backpedaled or given me conditions, but instead it’s a promise more than an answer. I press my lips harder into the flesh of my arm. “Careful, Baylor, you might regret that.”
