“Do something before dinner?” I didn’t want dinner unless he was on the menu. “What kind of something?” I asked, voice a little breathless as I traced my fingers down the hard ridges and grooves of his stomach. “What have you got in mind?” “I don’t know,” he replied gruffly, hands moving to my ass. “We could play a little GTA? Or talk?” He squeezed tightly and I moaned. “Whatever you want, Shan.” Dropping his face to my neck, he suckled hard on my flesh. “Shite, I think I marked you,” he muttered, jerking his head back, eyes locked on my neck. Grinning sheepishly, he added, “Sorry.” “Sure you
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