Oh, that Italian. A smirk was all he had. “Babe, I’d fucking love to imagine I have those kinds of smooth moves, and maybe I did sense something, but it was one of the chef’s choices, and I just went with it.”
Summer’s teasing snicker brought happiness to his heart.
“I didn’t peg you as the humble sort.”
“Me? Humble? Bah! I’m a motherfucker on my best days and have a few medals and commendations to prove it. The rest of the time, I’m a clueless idiot. It even says so in my annual performance review.”
She yawned unexpectedly and flushed a sweet color of pink. “Gosh, I’m tired.”
He wasn’t surprised. Their intense sexual interludes left him drained, so he assumed as a novice in the bedroom, she was probably exhausted. Sleep was definitely in their future but first …
“Can I interest you in dessert?”
She sat straight and shot him some delightful eyeshade.
“Does the moon come out at night?”
“I take that as a yes. Up, up, babe.”
She wiggled off his lap and yanked on the robe’s belt tie.
“That’s a good girl.”
Laugh lines creased her eyes when she wrinkled her nose.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?” By what?
“How much I like your endearments. I always assumed calling a modern woman baby or good girl was the precursor to a swift kick in the nuts. It turns out, I was wrong—big time.”
He laughed. And laughed. “Duly noted and my nuts thank you for the clarification.”
“Your nuts are welcome,” she said with a cheeky curtsey. “Okay, big guy. Where are you hiding the sweets?”
Should he do it? Should he grab his junk and make a crude remark? God, the decision was tougher than usual.
Yeah, the cocky shithead living in his head won this battle with no problem. Suggestively fondling what the gods saw fit to give him, he broke out a New Yawkers drawl and wagged his eyebrows in a comic fashion.
“Yeh, I got yer sumthin’ sweet right here, little lady. Hot, hard, and ready to go.”
“Is that so?” She looked him over, crossed her arms, cocked her hip, and smirked. “Go ahead, then. Do your show if it means that much to you. But turn a little to the right, would you? It’s your good side.”
“Really? My dick has a good side?”
“My god, you’re easy.” Summer chuckled. “Throw a compliment at your, um, manhood, and it’s game on.”
“My manhood is a needy baby. Come on, I’m being serious,” he snarled when she doubled over laughing.
Bending at the waist, she put her face in front of his robe-covered groin and spoke.
“Needy baby? That’s a new one, but for now, Imma let you have it.”
She turned on the baby talk, and well, he lost it.
“Do you have a name, little guy?”
“Little guy?” he squawked with outrage. “Seriously?”
Her eyes moved, but her body didn’t. She met his gaze, and said, “Having only been up close and personal with you, I have to take your word for it when you say you’re packing a cannon rather than a pistol. Nothing to compare it to.”
“I prefer grenade launcher,” he quipped.
Her lip-biting snort was quick and amusing.
“Whatever you say, but I have to point out how little sense your needy baby-grenade launcher makes. It’s one or the other.”
She turned her attention back to his dick, tapped on the obvious bulge, and grinned. “So I ask again, you got a name?”
“Lord Harddick works. So does Ivan the Impaler—I mean obviously, right?”
“Ivan the Impaler, First Lord of the Harddick. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Vicky, the virgin.”
“I know you.” He laughed. “Your virgin vise made quite an impression on the impaler.”
Summer straightened and jumped in his arms as she laughed. “What is wrong with us?”
He held on and swung her around. The joy she brought to his life made him feel human.
“So much,” he sniggered. Putting her down wasn’t easy. Not when she felt so good in his arms.
The second her feet hit the tile, she was off and running. Keeping up with her might require vitamins.
In the dining room, he directed her attention to the smaller serving cart. She didn’t wait on ceremony and started lifting the silver lids.
He watched her with interest. Though he wasn’t trying to read her, it couldn’t be helped. She engaged his senses on such a profoundly deep level that he couldn’t tune it out.
She murmured, “Eh,” at a round platter piled with fresh-cut fruit and moved on. Nothing appeared to interest her until she uncovered two massive plates of mini desserts—each