What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,67

Valentine,” he said softly, and she smiled again. “A constant surprise.”

“Patron saint of love and the plague – two things that never take a break.”

“So that's where I was this evening,” Ari wrapped everything up. He obviously didn't want to go into detail, so she didn't pry. Just scooped up some ice cream for herself. “Your vagina is still second to none.”

“I hope they put that on my gravestone when I die.”

“I'll make sure of it.”

They ate their ice cream in silence for a while, both concentrating on the sugary goodness. She was hell bent on devouring the entire pint, so she wasn't quite sure when he'd stopped eating, and even less sure of when he'd started staring at her. When she realized it was happening, she paused with her spoon raised to her mouth.

“What?” she asked, glancing down at herself, wondering if she'd spilled.

“Just you,” Ari replied, looking at her through hooded eyes. That damn lock of hair had fallen loose again over his forehead, begging her to smooth it back into place.

“Just me,” she laughed, and then she did actually spill on herself. A fat blob of melting vanilla fell to her chest. She groaned as it started sliding between her breasts. “Typical.”

She put her finger beneath the dollop, then ran it up her chest, trying to collect as much ice cream as she could. When she put her finger in her mouth to lick it clean, Ari's hands came to rest on her thighs.

“You're a mess, Valentine,” he said, pulling on her and dragging her across the table top, forcing her closer to him. She opened her legs wide so they could go around him.

“Don't I know it,” she agreed, then she softly moaned when he leaned forward to lick up the ice cream trail on her chest.

“You like it when I touch you,” he whispered against her skin, and she felt his hands smoothing around to her ass.

“I like it very much,” she whispered back.

“I think ...” he sighed as he pulled away from her and stood up. “I think if I asked in just the right way, you would do anything I asked you to.”

Valentine stared up at him. He had soft lighting in his home, giving everything a sort of golden glow. She nodded her head.

“I think so, too.”

He reached for her hand and helped her off the table so she could stand, too. As she climbed down, her thighs bumped the wooden top, and her backpack fell off the edge to the floor. Half the contents spilled out, skittering across the floor.

“Perfect timing. I'll clean it up in the morning,” she chuckled. When Ari didn't respond, she stopped laughing. “Or I can pick it up now if it bothers you.”

When he still didn't respond, she looked up at him. He wasn't staring at her, though, he was staring at the mess. She followed his gaze, taking in the scattered bits of makeup and her clutch and a pair of emergency panties and some other odds and ends. She couldn't figure out what was fascinating him so much, it was fairly standard girl stuff.

Then he took a step away from her and bent down towards her bag, and she honed in on what had his attention. She laughed softly as he picked up a pair of shiny handcuffs.

“Got a third job as a cop?” he guessed, dangling them from one finger. “Or a dominatrix?”

“I wish. I've got all sorts of club stuff in my bag, you know, like a spare outfit, insoles, a wig. Del's been planning this Cops and Robbers theme night, but he keeps changing the date. I started keeping the costume in my bag, just in case,” she explained.

“So if I were to search your bag right now, I'd find a sexy cop uniform?” Ari checked.

“Do you want to play Cops and Robbers, Mr. Sharapov?” she teased, giving him a cheeky smile. “Want me to chase you around and arrest you?

Ari didn't smile back, though. His eyes were back on the handcuffs. They were very authentic looking, she knew; they were shiny and had weight to them, and there was even a key somewhere in the depths of her bag.

“No,” he finally spoke in a low voice. “No, that's not what I want at all.”

Valentine could feel the mood in the apartment abruptly shift and change. Almost like the lighting had softened even more, or the temperature had risen. The atmosphere became charged, like it some times did before a storm