Elliot leaned casually against the doorway, a mug in his hand, watching me as I hustled around the kitchen. When our eyes met, my stomach twisted I realized instantly that the mug in his grasp was mine.
Heat flared across my cheeks. "This is my mug."
He arched a brow, the corner of his mouth tilting into a lazy smirk. "Oh? And what's the problem?"
I tried to mask my embarrassment, fumbling for an excuse. "We have disposable cups… maybe you should use one of those instead?"
His grin deepened, and I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing on me like the scent of a dominant Alpha marking his territory. "We've kissed before," he said casually, "so why worry now?"
