“Are you bad in bed?” I snort-laugh. “No.” “Are you sure? Every man thinks he’s good in bed.” There’s a playfully dirty challenge in his tone. We are not in the safe flirting zone anymore. This is the red zone, warning lights flashing everywhere. I race toward danger, ignoring the hell out of them. “I could prove it to you sometime,” I say, feeling reckless thanks to that spotlight. Then Jude does that thing. He scrapes his teeth over the corner of his mouth, and I go hot everywhere. “I wish you would,”
