Anne dropped her gaze, cheeks warm. "I wasn't staring at you."
"No?" Augustine lifted an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Then what—were you touching me instead?"
Her mouth opened, but no words came. "I… no," she stuttered.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Still denying it," he said, pulling her closer with a steady arm around her waist. "Just admit you can't keep your hands off me."
"You are completely delusional," she muttered, pressing her palms to his chest and trying to push him back. But his grip didn't loosen.
"You must be hungry still," he murmured, eyes glinting. "Want another round in the shower?"
Anne's jaw dropped. She was still sore, her muscles aching, and her legs barely steady from last night. Another round would leave her flat in bed. And she hadn't even had the chance to talk to him about what happened at the office.
"Don't you ever get tired?" she asked, feigning exasperation.
"Not when it comes to you," he whispered, lips brushing her ear.
