He leans a hip against the counter and juts his chin at me. “Nice necklace. Are you wearing it because it goes with your outfit?” His voice drops, sinfully deep and laden with innuendo only I understand. “Or for another reason?” Shutting off the tap, I turn to face him. “The second one.” My fingertips land on the amethyst pendant, caressing the stone between my index finger and thumb, and his pupils dilate. This necklace is our ‘game on’ symbol from before—an invitation to grab me, take me, bend me over the nearest couch. Of course, that won’t be happening since the couch is occupied by a
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