“Come on, Little Rose,” I taunt her with a smirk. “I’m barely using any strength.”
She lets out a growl then stomps on my foot. It rips laughter from me, but I let her go.
“This isn’t funny!” she screams, throwing the knife at me.
The blade nicks the side of my arm before hitting the floor and skidding to a stop.
Rosalie’s eyes are wide as saucers, her body frozen in shock.
I lift my hand to the wound, and my finger comes away with drops of blood. Giving Rosalie an impressed smile, I nod. “That’s much better.”
Her features tighten with disbelief. “I just hurt you, and you praise me for it? Are you insane?”
I shake my head and lock eyes with her. “I’m relieved. With training, you’ll be able to stand up for yourself when you leave. I won’t have to worry about you once you’re gone.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Are you really going to let me go?”
I pick up the knife and rinse it off before I continue making the sandwiches.
“Yes, Little Rose.” My eyes flick to hers. “Once you’re twenty-one.”
When I’m placing slices of cheese on the bread, Rosalie says, “You’re bleeding.”
“I know.”
“Aren’t you going to treat the wound?”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to clean up after you.” Using the knife, I point to a cupboard. “You’ll find a first aid kit in there.”
“I’m not touching you with a ten-foot pole,” she grumbles.
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think you’re defying me, so I’ll spank you.” I set the knife down on the counter and prowl closer to her. “Is that what you want, Little Rose?”
She takes a faltering step backward, shaking her head so hard, the strands of hair fly around her shoulders.
My hand darts out, and I capture the back of her neck. With a tug, I have her body crashing into mine. Her lips part with a gasp, her hands coming up to grip my sides so she won’t lose her balance from the sudden movement.
Lowering my voice and lacing the words with seduction, I say, “You don’t have to test my patience to get my attention. All you have to do is ask.”
Anger wars with uncertainty on her face, then she whispers, “Let go.”
I tilt my head, and leaning closer, I allow my lips to brush over her flushed cheek. “Is that really what you want?”
Her breaths are coming hard and fast, and for a moment, I feel her grip on my sides tighten. The word wooshes from her, “Yes.”
I let go of her so fast that she stumbles backward.
I nod toward the cupboard. “Get the first aid kit and clean the mess you made on my arm.”
This time she doesn’t argue and quickly retrieves the box.
While I place the sandwiches on plates, Rosalie tears open an antiseptic wipe. She scowls at me as she moves closer and dabs up the drying blood.
“I wish the knife hit your neck,” she mutters under her breath.
I give her a playful grin. “There’s always next time.”
She lets out an annoyed huff. “You’re insufferable.”