Page 72 of Only for the Season

“I still maintain I’m a queen.”

He chuckles and since his body is pressed up against mine, I feel the vibrations throughout my body. Heart. Saltwater taffy. No chewing.

“You can be a queen, but you’re my princess.”

His princess? I want to be his princess. And not only until New Year’s Day.

“I should probably get going,” I say, since this whole heart encased in saltwater taffy is not working.

He clears his throat. “We should talk.”

My stomach drops. Scuttle my cookies. Is he breaking up with me now? I still have a few weeks. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’m afraid I’ll never be ready to say goodbye.

“I’m not apologizing for the soy sauce.”

His fingers dig into my hip. “It’s your fault there’s soy sauce all over the sheets.”

“Disagree. If you hadn’t attacked me while I was eating, there wouldn’t be soy sauce on the sheets.”

“You said you could eat while I explored your body.”

I roll around to face him. “You didn’t say explore my body. You said tickle me.”

“Same thing.”

“It is not the same thing! You yanked open my legs and started to taste me.”

Tickling, I can handle. I’m not ticklish. For the most part. Having a man give me pleasure while I’m eating? That I apparently can’t handle.

“Hmm…” His eyes flare. “Good idea.”

My nipples pebble at the promise in his voice.

“But we need to talk first.”

I groan. “You’re ruining morning sex.”

“We’ll have sex in a moment.”

I seriously doubt we’ll have sex in a moment if he tells me this arrangement is finished. I’ll be hiding in the bathroom crying instead. Crap on a mermaid’s tail. My eyes are already welling with tears.

“What do you want to talk about?” Might as well get this over with.

“You shouldn’t be living in that hellhole you refer to as an apartment.”

Relief hits me. He isn’t ending this affair early. But then I realize what he said.

I glare at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I can’t believe you’re fighting me on this.”

I rear back. “You can’t? Are you so used to bulldozing over people’s wishes that the idea someone doesn’t jump to do your bidding is foreign?”

“I’m not bulldozing over your wishes.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? You’re not telling me where to live?”

“This is ridiculous. You can’t possibly want to live in your crappy apartment.”