“Chaz isn’t a romantic.”

“No shit. He has a complete drugstore in there. Mouthwash, Altoids, a gross of condoms, and whadda you know- gold-plated handcuffs.” Reaching down, he pulled them out and swung them in her direction.

“If you don’t behave, I might have to use them.”

He gave her a look. “Over my dead body.”

“So you’re not into bondage.”

“Not much.”

“Ever?”

“Is this a quiz?”

She opened her arms wide and smiled. “I’m done. No more questions. You may direct the entertainment.”

His brows rose. “I wouldn’t have typecast you as submissive. ”

“With a dick like yours, I’d be stupid not to be. I’m sure whatever you decide to do will feel mighty fine on my pleasure scale.”

“So I may indulge myself.”

“Us, sweetie,” she said with a smile, figuring she was way past any opportunity to play the shrinking violet.

“Right.” He liked that she didn’t play games, a rarity in his world. Throwing the handcuffs back into the bedside table, he quickly wiped himself off and came to his feet. “Do you need anything? I need a drink of water.” Smoothing back his hair with both hands, he readjusted the binder holding his ponytail in place. “How about you?”

“Me, too-water.”

“There’s plenty of liquor or wine around here- champagne, if you like.”

“I’d mostly like you.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” Had she known that her words had a familiar ring, requests like that frequent years ago when he was in culinary school and waiting tables on the side in upscale restaurants? It had been pretty much a fucking smorgasbord in those days. Between work, school, and keeping the ladies happy, sleep had been scarce.

He had a good feeling that getting to know darling Liv might be déjà vu all over again. “Rest up,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

But he wasn’t.

Liv could hear him rummaging through Chaz’s kitchen cupboards, drawers opening and shutting, cabinet doors ditto, the sound of a refrigerator door closing with that soft thud of a vacuum seal.