Page 12 of My Husband Problem
I really do. And these milkshakes are incredible. I take a short pull on the straw. Then a longer one. I moan.
Declan clears his throat.
I look at Harley. “This is great.”
“Your mouth, okay?”
“Better. But I probably need to drink at least half of this milkshake just to be safe.”
Harley winks. “Good idea.”
“Thanks, Harley,” I say.
“Of course. Anything you need, sweetheart.” Then he turns and lets the door bump shut behind him.
“You’re welcome,” Declan says.
Right. The milk was his idea. His demand, even.
I suck on the straw again, give a happy sigh, then shrug. “I am definitely not voting for the sassy shrimp.”
“Sounds like this is all kind of your own fault. You begged for a spot at the judging table. Any chance you did that last minute because I was in town?”
Damn. I cannot forget that this man is very intelligent. And apparently paying attention to details.
“That would have required me to think about you and care,” I say.
Now the corner of his mouth actually curls all the way up.
And yeah, I was right. Being this close to him when he smirks or even half-smiles is a bad idea.
“Yes. It would have.”
Did he just move closer? Because suddenly the air around us feels a little warmer, and I feel like he’s taking up a lot more space. I suck on the straw again and give another little moan.
He frowns as his gaze drops to my mouth. “It can’t be that good.”
My brows rise. “Oh, it is.” Without thinking, I hold it up to him. “Seriously.”
He hesitates, then, just as I realize what I've offered and start to pull it back, he takes the cup and lifts it to his mouth.
I watch as his beautiful lips wrap around the straw where my lips just were.
He takes a long pull, and for a second, I’m distracted from his mouth by the widening of his eyes.
I smile. “See?”
“That’s…very good.”
“Told yo?—”
I break off when he swipes his tongue over his lower lip.
Oh, this is just all really bad.
I’ve shared numerous straws and forks with Miles. I’ve never wished my nipples were the straw or fork.
I do now.
