“I guess I’ll just have to taste test it all, won’t I?”
He took the wrapper off the paper plate.
“Plastic fork and a paper plate? Let me guess, you guys don’t like washing dishes.”
“I know better than to give you access to a possible weapon.”
“You are giving me way too much credit if you think I could use a fork as a weapon.”
Oh, God, that smelled good. She felt her resolve to refuse fading. She could hardly make a getaway if she was weak with hunger, right? And even though she had a feeling this food came with an agenda, right then she didn’t care. It had been a long time since that sandwich and Twinkie. She wondered if Mr. GQ had told the others he’d fed her.
“Your brother was here last night.”
He nodded and forked up some scrabbled egg, putting
it into his mouth and hummed. “Joseph? I know. See? No poison. Now sit.”
She sat. Then cursed herself for obeying him. She should have stood up on principle. Right, and should she starve herself on principle too?
Oh, fuck, when it came down to it, she wasn’t really that principled.
She attempted to grab the fork from him. “Uh-uh.” He pulled the fork back.
She folded her arms across her chest. Betrayal filled her. He’d played her. Trying to act like a nice guy, and she’d fallen for it. What was he planning on doing now? Eating the food in front of her?
He forked up some more egg and then held it to her lips. She stared at him in amazement.
“Open up,” he coaxed.
She didn’t move.
“Do you want me to make choo-choo noises? I suppose I can. Kind of ruins the sexy vibe we have going on here, though.”
“There is no sexy vibe going on.”
He grinned. “No. You sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure your nipples were hard when you were pressed against me yesterday. And those little noises you made when I was kissing you were delicious.”
“I was faking it.”
He laughed. “Honey, I’m a lot older than you and more experienced. I can tell when someone’s faking it.”
“You’re not that much older than me.” She knew he was a lot more experienced though. And he was right, damn him. She’d been turned on by everything he’d done to her.
“And, baby, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes ever since I came in here.”
“Have not!” Had she? She looked him over. She bet he had washboard abs under that shirt.
“You’re doing it right now.”
“Am not.” Oh, she so was. Fuck. Maybe he had a hairy ass. Or a small diddle. Or was missing one ball.
“I’m not sure I like that look on your face right now.”
“How’s the head?” She needed to get this conversation away from her possible undressing of him and onto something else. Anything else.
“It’s fine. I’m a fast healer.”
“Hard-headed you mean.”