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Until the space between us is suddenly his instead of mine.

I have to tip my chin to hold his gaze, and this close, I catch the clean soap on his skin and that warmer, woodsy scent beneath it.

His eyes drop briefly to the pouch still trapped between my fingers.

Then back to me. “If you’re not alone, then why the hell do you need that thing?”

“Options.”

“Maybe you’re reading in the wrong company.” There’s still a trace of teasing in his voice, but the look on his face has lost every bit of it.

And suddenly this doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. My pulse kicks harder.

I lift the pouch between us. “At least it doesn’t talk back.”

“I don’t know Baby Becks, a little banter in the bedroom never hurt anyone.” His tongue presses briefly against the inside of his cheek. "I do have one more question.”

I’m pretty sure at this point my panties are going to spontaneously combust, and not even the cute ones that I never got around to buying.

What was he asking? Doesn't matter, there is only one right answer here.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“I know you. Besides… haven’t we shared enough in this little bonding exercise?"

“You’ve been an open book.” He smiles, his gaze dropping to the pouch again, then sliding toward the shelf beside me.

“Haha. Very funny. And they say you’re just a pretty face.”

“So, how exactly do you hold the book and⁠—”

Now he’s the one who seems a little flustered.

“And?” I really can’t help myself. “What's the matter, Ken? Darcy got your tongue?”

Lucky cat.

“Ever heard of audiobooks?” A smile pulls at my mouth despite the heat still crawling beneath my skin.

Then I watch his imagination catch up to it. His jaw tightens. The blue of his eyes darkens as they move over my face, and suddenly I’m thinking about what he must be thinking.

Which is infinitely worse than the vibrator hitting him in the face. Or maybe better. I haven’t decided.

“Christ” His voice is lower than it was a second ago.

Neither of us moves. The teasing should be over. Except he’s still looking at me.

I lift the pouch slightly. “You done?”

His answer comes without hesitation.

“Not even close.” Bishop’s expression shifts the second the words leave his mouth, like he hears the double meaning as well as I do.

My pulse kicks. For once, I’m not the one who looks away first.

His jaw flexes. “Put your shit away, Becks.”