Rain's POV:
His foot barely presses against my pussy and an embarrassing whimper slips out of me before I can swallow it back.
"What are you—" My voice fractures, gets swallowed by the next sound as he pinches my sensitive skin with his toes, slow and cruel.
My ice cream sits in front of me, softening at the edges, starting to melt into a glossy puddle. The kitchen is warm from the stove, from the food, from the air still thick with garlic and butter and basil.
But it's not the heat of the room that's making my skin burn.
It's him and his darn toe.
The tension spreads like fire across the table, crawling up my spine, tightening low in my belly as Danny shifts closer.
His tall body bends forward from across the table, filling my space, blocking out the rest of the kitchen until it's just him and me and the thin line of control I'm about to lose.
And before I even realize it, I lean in too.
"Keep eating, Rain," he orders, voice low and steady.
