“So, deal?” I hold out my hand. He glares at it. “Five years.” I blink in shock. “Two,” I repeat. “Ten.” “Three.” “Fifteen.” My jaw drops. “Four.” “Fine.” He grabs my hand, then pulls me to my feet so roughly, I tumble against his naked body. I cook from the inside out as he ducks his head, lips moving within striking distance of mine as he says in a low voice that tastes like smoke and chimes with victory. “Then get a room ready for me. I’m moving in with my girlfriend tomorrow.”
