He reached for her right away, and she let him draw her close, the hair on his chest tickling her nose. His skin was warm, his limbs long as they wrapped around her.
He’d wanted to cuddle as they slept too, telling her with his inimitable charm how romantic it would be to nod off while spooning or with her head on his chest. But she knew herself too well for even his particular brand of sweet talk to work. If they attempted to sleep intertwined, she’d never even doze. And if by some miracle she did, she’d either awaken sore or drown them both in a lake of her sweat.
She’d always run hot at night. A fact to which he’d responded with a certain amount of delightful innuendo.
In compensation for her refusal to sleep cuddling, she’d offered another round or two of lovemaking. And Jesus, sex with a twenty-six-year-old had its definite perks. As in, a perky penis with very little refractory time necessary—which meant a little bit of chafing but alotof orgasms for her. Mind-blowing, multiple, and memorable.
She’d never believed thatforty-year-old women are in their sexual primebullshit, but she was starting to think she’d been way too cynical about way too many things for way too long.
“This is nice,” he murmured, nuzzling the crown of her head.
It really was. She tightened her arm around his chest and wedged her leg deeper between his. With a pleased rumble, he stroked her bare back, his indefatigable cock stirring against her thigh.
Mmmm. She wouldn’t mind starting every morning like this.
But the damn alarm kept getting louder as they failed to heed its call, and she needed to get moving, like it or not.
“You’ll have to address Mr. Perky on your own today, hon. Sorry about that.”
She pressed one final kiss below his jaw, where bristly whiskers had begun to emerge, inhaling as deeply as she could. That heady lungful of Lucas needed to last until evening.
His grip tightened for a moment before he let her slide out of his arms. “Mr. Perky?”
“I’ve given your penis its own adorable nickname.” Spying her pile of discarded, sweaty clothing just inside the bathroom door, she grimaced. “I don’t want to put any of that stuff back on, not even for the walk to my hotel room, and I don’t want to put clean clothes on a dirty body. Can I shower here? Or do you need the bathroom to get ready for your morning lessons?”
Without a word, he lumbered out of bed and into the living room. Hoisting her overnight bag over his shoulder, he brought it to the bathroom, set it on the tiled floor, and sat beside her on the edge of the bed again.
She smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” The words were low. Intimate. Accompanied by his own devastating smile.
Holy Moses. Those dimples made her hotter than the last time the school’s HVAC system had malfunctioned. Which was saying something, since she figured she’d gotten a preview of menopause that late-July week.
When he reached for her again, though, she sprang up. “Nice thought. But I need to pee and brush my teeth before you get any closer. And I have”—she glanced at the alarm clock—“an hour to get clean and ready for the ferry trip to the mainland. There’s no time for any shenanigans.”
As she ran for the bathroom, he sighed. “And you callmea spoilsport.”
“I’m saving you from morning breath!” she called back before closing the door.
When she emerged twenty minutes later, he gave her a lingering pat on her bare butt and took her place. While he conducted his business, she opened up her overnight bag. Only to realize she’d somehow packed one of Belle’s shirts instead of her own.
In theory, the two of them were roughly the same size, but the same could not be said for their breasts. Still, that tee was all she had, since Lucas’s clothing wouldn’t fit. Good enough.
A couple minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened, and then he was studying her, his lips twitching in an altogether annoying fashion. “That shirt is—”
“Can it.” She tugged at the chest of the t-shirt again, hoping the material might abruptly loosen and decide to stretch more over her breasts. “I may be too much woman for this shirt, but I consider that a flaw in its design, not mine.”
He took a step forward and tucked a runaway strand of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. “I was about to say that the shirt looks amazing on you. It emphasizes some of my favorite bits. And if you worejustthe shirt…”
His eyes grew cloudy, and Mr. Perky sprang to life once more.
After one more futile tug at the chest of the tee, she gave up and laughed. “I should have known you’d love me in a too-tight top.”
“Yup.” He grinned at her, shameless. “You really should have.”
After slipping on her socks and sneakers, she slid her keycard into the pocket of her yoga pants. “I need to get to my room and pack for the outing today. Change shirts, too.” She hesitated. “Do you want to come with me, or would you rather—”
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m coming with you.” He hurriedly donned his usual work clothing and shoved his feet into a pair of flip-flops. “I intend to spend as much time as possible looking at you in that shirt. And while I was in the shower, I realized I don’t even have your contact information. I need to get that before you leave for the day, just in case.”
