“How about a midnight snack, or some ambient sounds.” Sinclair muses, still petting me.
I lean my cheek into his hand before I can realize what I’m doing. I shake my head pitifully, realizing a few things at once. First, Sinclair knows exactly what I want. Second, he’s taking no small amount of pleasure in suggesting all the wrong solutions. Third, if I want to sleep with him, I’m going to have to come out and ask for it.
As if he’s reading my mind, Sinclair says, “Just tell me what I can do to help, Ella. And I will.”
I sigh, fighting the sudden urge to stomp on his big giant foot and only holding back because I remember how much it hurt the first time. My next thought is to turn my lips toward his palm and take a chomp out of him. It’s incredibly tempting, but I have no idea where th
