"You're still mad at me?" he asked, voice low. She didn't answer, just narrowed her eyes and crossed her legs.

He laughed. That soft, cocky sound that meant danger incoming.

Then stepped between her knees. "You crossed your legs like that again," he whispered, "and I'll take it personally."

She held his gaze.

He leaned down and let his lips brush against her cheek. "Wanna know what i see when you're like this? All pissed off and silent and soaked through your underwear?"

"My favorite meal."