Well, he won that exchange. Angel expected he'd have something to say about her jab and he'd yet to leave her wanting. Eyes going wide in surprise at his twist to her words, Angel debated giving him her back until she could wipe the disbelief off her face, but, ever the good opponent, she faced him as she weighed his words.

And he'd challenged her, the bastard. "I sense a trap." She almost purred it, "But I cannot let such a challenge go unanswered." She studied him, wondering which tactic he'd anticipate. He could read her well enough, she anticipated, to know what the suggestion would do. She had the sense memory and imagination to think of several delightful scenarios.

She chose a favorite easily. One of them would have the sense to conjure blankets before he pressed her to the ground. He'd praise her between the sucking kisses to her throat and shoulder she adored, words of how right she felt beneath him, how good they were like this. The air would be cold on her skin, but he'd so warm as she locked her legs around him. Curse him for that image!

"As I would be the one with something in hand," she mused, "I think it would be a very considerate gesture, on my part." She tested the suggestion between them. Was he truly suggesting or was her entertaining the idea about to be a joke at her expense? With him, she assumed an equal shot at both.

---