“I have to leave in five minutes,” he growled, his hands moving to the waistband of my pajama shorts, his lips trailing the curve of my shoulder.
I shuddered. “We’ll be done by then.”
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d take that as an insult to my abilities as a man,” he chuckled, tugging at my shorts.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d just reach down my pants and do it myself,” I threw back, smirking at him over my shoulder.
That was the kind of relationship we had.
That was how things had been from the start.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.