I nodded robotically. “Want another?”
Please. Please. Please.
His lips spread into a slow, sensual smile. “As if I could say no to you.”
So I gave him another bite of potato salad, and the experience was just as jolting at the first time. Then I made the moment even more intimate by giving myself a bite. His eyes heated as he watched the fork disappear into my mouth.
“Pickle,” I asked, lifting a dill spear next.
He nodded. “Hell, yeah.”
So I let him rip off a sliver of pickle from my fingers. When a wet drop fell from his lip and landed on Skylar’s forehead, I laughed. “Oops.”
I grabbed a napkin and reached out to wipe her clean, but Pick was already lifting her to his mouth. He lapped up the splatter with his tongue.
My mouth fell open. “Did you just lick my daughter?”
Oh, crap.
