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“Almost.”
Paige really wished she had one of those on video—seeing Ashley lose her shit would’ve been nice, especially when she didn’t get her way. “I’m glad you didn’t get rid of it. That would’ve really, really pissed me off.”
“I find that funny, considering you were so wonky about me getting it in the first place.”
“I wasn’t wonky. Jesus.”
“Yes, you were. You were totally wonky. You were worried about another woman in my life seeing it on my back and not liking it, remember?” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “That was you, right?”
“Fine. Yes, it was me. So?”
“So, you were apparently full of shit.”
“I wasn’t full of shit,” she hotly denied. “I was worried about another woman seeing it and not liking it, until—”
“Until the moment ‘another woman’ turned out to be Ashley?”
“That’s right.”
“And then you weren’t worried anymore?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Paige’s hands were now on her hips, and the slightly aggressive stance made her breasts look fantastic. Not even bothering to hide his appreciation anymore, he ran his eyes hungrily over each one, lingering on her tight nipples before trailing down to the neatly trimmed triangle of light brown hair at the juncture of her thighs, then back up to her face. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” he murmured, “but the sooner you finish asking all your questions, the sooner you and I can have angry sex.”
“Angry sex?” She blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
He flipped the sheet to the side. “What do you think?”
She tilted her head, her eyebrows rising at the sight of his very hard cock. Her knowledge of ‘angry’ sex had been attained from reading books, in which the hero and heroine get into a heated, verbal sparring match, followed by ripping each other’s clothes off and banging one another into oblivion. Paige had always thought it seemed a little unrealistic, because who would really be in the mood for sex right after a huge fight? However, as her eyes lingered on David’s impressive erection, it was clear that not only was he in the mood for it, he was really in the mood for it.
And … so was she.
Paige pressed her lips together as their eyes met once again. “I’m guessing you’ve had angry sex before?”
“Yes.”
“With Ashley?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Well,” he drawled, knowing his answer would likely bring on another burst of fire, so he didn’t hold back. “She was good at making me angry so … pretty often.”
Paige began stalking toward the bed. “Well, you’re going to have better angry sex with me than you ever had with her.”
Unable to stop himself, he laughed out loud.
“That wasn’t meant to be funny,” she warned, her tone cool but her gaze burning.
“I know. But … it was. Now get the fuck over here.”
Chapter 43
“I really do like your beard, but I’m not going to lie. I also miss being able to see your cleft chin,” Paige said.
After their ‘angry sex’ encounter (which David insisted was the best he’d ever had), they’d slept for a little while, then got up, threw on some clothes, and had a quick lunch. After eating, they’d ended up in the bathroom, where David had performed some beard maintenance while Paige watched from her perch on the edge of the tub. She’d been surprised to find out that maintaining a beard actually took a lot of effort, and was way more than just letting facial hair grow. Aside from the regular trimming of said facial hair with electric clippers, David also shaved on the underside of his jaw to keep it from looking scruffy. He also combed or brushed his beard daily, using beard-specific grooming products—one that looked like a miniature horse brush—and used special shampoo, conditioner, and a twice weekly application of beard oil.
