“I know, but I want you to see me washing a dish.”
She snorted out a laugh despite her best efforts to hold it in. “Why?”
“So you can see how sexy I am.”
She tilted her head. “I admit, a man washing dishes is definitely one of my fantasies.”
“Fantasies? As in plural?”
“I’m a normal woman. Of course it’s plural.”
“I wouldn’t mind hearing about some of those.”
“I don’t want to scandalize you.”
He turned around and dried his hands. The lazy gesture conjured dirty thoughts. “Please, by all means, scandalize me,” he drawled.
Liv stood and took his hand. “You’d better come with me.” She tugged him to the couch and gently pressed her palm to his chest. She gave him a soft push. “Sit.”
Mack’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead, but he obeyed.
“Scoot all the way back,” she commanded.
“So far, I’m in total agreement with whatever you’re doing.”
Liv crawled onto the cushion next to him, tucked her feet up, and then lifted his left arm and ducked under it. It fell heavy across her shoulders as she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder and pressed her cheek to the spot just above his heart. She couldn’t hold back the mmmmm that emerged from her throat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice husky.
“Snuggling.”
“Snuggling?” He chuckled as his hand slid down her back. He stopped just above the waistband of her sleep shorts.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Snuggling is your fantasy.”
“Yep.”
His fingers shifted to find the bare patch of skin between her shirt and her shorts. Liv held her breath at the contact of skin on skin. Beneath her ear, his heart beat faster.
“Are you scandalized yet?” Her voice sounded like she’d just tried to gargle with straight cocoa powder.
“Completely.” So did his. “Maybe you should tell me what else happens in this fantasy of yours.”
“We talk.”
“Dirty talk?”
“Boring talk. How our days went, movies we want to see, weird things customers ordered at the restaurant, stupid things that happened at the bar.”
“I could fill up an entire day with that.”
She laughed. His chin rested on the top of her head. “Why is this your fantasy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Must be a reason.”
“I just like the idea of having someone to lean on sometimes.”
She hadn’t really meant to admit that, but something about the warmth of his skin and the thud of his heart had lulled her into an unguarded moment that she would surely regret later. “The night I got fired, I wished I had someone to lean on.”
Beneath her ear, his heart raced. “What did you do instead?”
“Watched TV and cried.”
His breath caught. “I would have held you.”
“I didn’t like you then, remember?”
He responded with a brush of his thumb against her waist. “What about now?”
“I’m getting there.”
She felt him swallow. Hard. “What else happens in this fantasy?”
“You rub my back.”
His muscles shifted, and anticipation danced along her nerves. His hand slid beneath the fabric of her shirt and began a lazy path up her spine. “Like this?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and curled her fingers into his shirt. He was hard beneath her touch. She was weak beneath his.
“Tell me more,” he murmured, voice strained beneath the rise and fall of his own labored breathing. There was no mistaking the tug of heavy desire in every exhalation.
“Maybe rub my neck.”
“Now you’re just milking it.”
She laughed, but then she went motionless as his hand slid up farther under her shirt. His fingers began to work magic against the tight cords of her neck. She tilted her head to give him greater access. “Are you trying to get lucky?”
“I already feel lucky.”
Her breath lodged in her chest. When she opened her eyes and looked up, she found the affection she’d heard in his voice also in his eyes, gazing down at her through dark pupils. Whatever they were doing—whatever was suddenly happening—it was monumental. Intimate. Hot. And so dangerous.
“Just so you know,” he rasped. “I’m thinking about it again.”
“About what?”
“Kissing you.”
She swallowed hard. “But you’re not sure?”
“I’m nervous,” he said.
She could barely hear over the roar of her own blood. “Why?”
“Because I want to do it right.”
“I imagine you have enough experience to make that a non-issue.”
“It’s not the experience that matters. It’s the emotions. Mine are kind of jumbled right now.”
Her chest pinched. “Wow. Sometimes I think I’ve got you all figured out, and then you go and say super-sweet things like that.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It’ll blow my image.”
“Maybe you could just actually get around to kissing me?”