His mouth opens against my bare shoulder. His teeth tease my skin for a few seconds before his hot tongue flicks out like a whip.

I swallow hard. “I … I don’t think this is a smart idea.”

Jake lifts his head, blinking several times before cocking it to the side. “You have a better idea?”

Wetting my lips, I rub them together. I wasn’t expecting that response. “Not … necessarily.”

He nods slowly, letting his gaze slide along my body. “Clearly you’re a pain in any man’s ass. But I’d say most men would overlook that. Unless …” His eyes meet mine. A cocky grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

I squint. “Unless what?”

“Unless you’re incredibly bad at sex.”

“How dare you—”

He smashes his mouth to mine.

Wrong.

Stupid.

Impulsive.

His tongue taunts mine until I surrender. Dear sweet Jesus … he tastes better than champagne, perfectly ripe strawberries, the smoothest milk chocolate, and my favorite … everything.

He breaks the kiss. My lungs claw for air. His tongue makes a lazy stroke across his lower lip, ending with that damn grin. I’m a mess. What’s he smiling about?

“I’m not bad at sex,” I whisper between breaths.

“No?” He slides the spaghetti straps off my shoulders.

My nightie slips a few inches.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Show me what you’ve got, Ave.”

I just did that. I showed him my stuff. Well … my de-pants and run. Maybe that didn’t count as sexy in his book. My smile twitches. “Why are you calling me Ave?”

“Figured you preferred it to Diva Bitch.”

I scowl. “I still hate you.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bastard. Sexy … delicious … irresistible … bastard.

Jake holds his hands out to his sides. “Let’s see it, Ave. Do your worst.”

What the hell? I wait, but he remains on his knees, statuesque. I slide off my nightie. His eyes follow with curiosity. Maybe … or is it disinterest? Gah! I don’t know. Men have seriously messed with my head, chipping away at my confidence. What’s left is artificial. A complete façade.

Resting my shaky hands flat on his chest, I lean in and press my lips to the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t move. Ghosting more kisses over his jaw, I wait for him to respond … join in.

Nothing.

“Aren’t you going to touch me?” I whisper, teasing my teeth across his earlobe.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

I freeze. What’s going on? My body jerks back, but his expression gives away nothing.

“Is that the best you’ve got, Ave?”

I frown, shoulders deflating, but not as much as my ego. I survey his body. The prominent outline in his briefs gives me hope that I’m making progress. My hand slides down the front of them. His Adam’s apple makes a quick dip. That’s good. Right?