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He lifts his gaze to meet mine and nods with a devilish smile on his face.
“You’re sexy as sin.”
He freezes.
I arch my brow and close the space between us, desperate to touch him, but still I refrain. “I think you’re sexy as sin.”
He gulps, then slowly nods.
Taking a chance, I pry his hands off his chest so I can hold them. “We’re all built differently, Carson. What’s one person’s not enough, is another person’s just right.”
The redness in his cheeks has now spread down his neck.
I glance down at my feet. “Look how short I am. I’m probably an inch away from needing to use a booster seat in the car. Do you know how lucky you are that you can reach things on the top shelf? I have a step stool in my kitchen just to get my stupid peanut butter and I sometimes climb the grocery store shelves like a squirrel to reach the things I need.”
He offers a little smile, as if what I just said was adorable.
“I’m totally disproportionate, in case that’s escaped your notice.” It’s only a half-joke. “I have A minus cups, and a dump truck ass.”
“There’s no such thing as A minus cups.”
“Lower case A’s then.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Uh, yes, it is.” Kind of, sort of, depends on who you talk to.
“I love your tits and your ass,” he says in a deep voice.
“I love that you love them.”
“And I love how tiny you are.”
“Good.” Because I stopped growing fifteen years ago.
“So far, I love everything about you, Mak.”
“I’m glad.” Running my fingertips up his chest, I raise up on my tiptoes and hook my arms around his neck. “I think we’re a pretty amazing combo.”
Wariness laces his voice. “I think so too.”
“Good.” I pull him down so our lips almost brush. “I want to worship every inch of your body, Carson. I’m sorry you’ve struggled with it your whole life, but… maybe, just maybe, if you’re willing to let me, I can show you how fucking amazing it really is.”
I feel him shut down again. His body stiffens and his gaze loses that hint of sparkle. “I don’t think you can help.”
“Will you let me try?”
He debates it for a few moments, then says, “Let me think about it.”
•••
As I give Carson a little space, we eat the best enchiladas I’ve ever had in my life. He said it was his secret recipe and if he tells me how to make it, he’ll have to kill me.
“Death would be worth it. Holy crap, these are so good.”
I’ve eaten five. Carson’s had three.
“I make big batches and freeze them into single serving portions. You came just in time since I hadn’t divided them out yet.”