Dylan's lips paused at the base of her neck. He moved his head sideways as the soft air he blew touched her skin.
Olivia flinched and he smiled. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "if you keep reacting like this, I might start thinking I need a compliment because I'm still good at this."
Olivia let out a breathy laugh, her body already melting under his touch. "Still good? That means you ever stopped being good."
"Well," he nipped at her earlobe, "maybe I wanted to give you a chance to miss me."
She turned in his arms and looked up at him, her eyes shining with mischief. "Oh please Dylan, stop thinking high opinion of yourself."
He grinned. "You liked it, didn't you?"
"I hated every second," she said, clearly lying. "I was this close to begging."
"Oh, don't flatter yourself," he said with a chuckle. "You did beg when you were still sore. Twice. Especially after that morning incident."
