“I’ll turn up the heat, but you’ll be plenty warm soon enough.” He popped me on the butt. “Move.”
The impact startled me at first, taking my breath. I scrambled to the bed and laid back, feeling completely exposed while he walked across the room, first to the window to adjust the temperature, then back to the dresser, returning to his mysterious satchel. He cleared off one side table and placed the bag on top within his reach.
His muscles flexed under his skin as he climbed onto the bed between my legs. Placing one hand on my hip, he moved up my body, leaving a trail of kisses until he reached my exposed breasts.
Then, he moved my hands up, so they were stretched out perpendicular to my body. “Don’t move, beautiful,” he whispered, sitting back on his knees while his eyes flickered over my bare flesh.
“Those aren’t exactly comforting words, you know.”
“Nor were they meant to be.” His voice held a stern edge, reminding me I didn’t know all the rules to this game. He stretched out over me, supporting himself on his elbows. “What do you feel right now?”
Am I really supposed to have an answer for that? I blinked, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “I don’t know.”
He pressed his lips together. “Well then, I’ll just sit here and stare at you until you figure it out.”
I fidgeted and looked across the room toward the window. What the hell does he want?
“I said, don’t move,” he said, pulling my chin back so I had to look up at him. “That’s one. ‘I don’t know’ is a copout. You use it when you don’t want to dig deep enough to come up with a genuine answer.”
One? One what? I clenched my jaw.