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It must be nice.
“And are those Egyptian cotton?” I ask awkwardly about the sheets because I don’t know what else to say at this moment. I feel so out of my element.
“Come here.” He gestures with a crook of his finger.
Even as my brain screams at me to stay put, I find myself moving toward him.
“What?” I ask tentatively.
He suddenly hangs the wet towel around my neck, and when I grimace, he grins.
“Stay still.”
“I’m not your towel rack,” I complain, but I don’t take it off because it smells exactly like him. His sudden smile throws me off guard.
“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask, feeling a little breathless, something tightening in my chest. The look in his eyes is gentle but alluring if that even makes sense. I want to close mine or make a run for it.
“Smiling like what?”
I swallow thickly.
“Stop looking at me like that. It’s not fair.”
Before I can take a step back, he lifts his hand and slides it into my hair.
“Well, then, next time, don’t show up at my apartment looking so fuckable.”
Fuckable?I think to myself incredulously. My hair is in a messy bun, I’m wearing Tweety bird pajamas, and I don’t have a trace of makeup on my face.
“Are you going blind in your old age?” I ask facetiously, peering up at him.
His hand tightens in my hair in punishment as he growls, “I may be older than you, but I am far from an old man.”
“Don’t tell me you have a thing for Tweety?” My eyes squint. “Is that some kind of fetish?” I jest. “Of all the things to have a kink about.“
“What?” He stares at me, baffled. “What’re you going on about now?”
I pinch at one of the pictures of the yellow bird on my top, forcing him to look.
“This.”
Hunter narrows his eyes at me. “You’ll say just about anything that pops into your brain, won’t you? I don’t have a kink for some damn cartoon character. Just the woman wearing it.”
I hate that I hang on to his every word. This man could sell sand in the desert.
“I don’t want the dress or the diamonds,” I enunciate, jumping back to the entire point of my coming up to his apartment.
“Well, too bad, Tweety.” He shrugs, leaning down to brush his lips over mine. “I already bought them.”
“Then you wear them!” I retort without thinking.
He chuckles against my mouth. “Are you sure you’re not the one with the kink?”
He seems to be in a good mood for some reason, which confuses me even further. Most days, he’s super serious, and then there are other times when he’s pretty playful.
“I’m serious,” I try to get my words out as he kisses me hungrily, his other hand reaching for his towel. “I didn’t come here to–”
I go still when I see something move in my periphery. It’s a shadow, breaking through the moonlight on the bed. For a moment, I think I just imagined it, but just as I turn my head tolook at the bed more clearly, I see it again. Something is partially blocking the reflection of the moon.
