“Morning.” The gravelly tone of his sleep-roughened voice flowed over her sending a shiver down her spine.
“It’s morning?” They’d spent the night on the couch?
“A few minutes after six.” He shifted beneath her, one warm hand cradling the back of her head while the other gripped her hip as he rolled to his back taking her with him until she lay stretched out along his length.
“Did we sleep here all night?”Way to ask the obvious, Vee.
“Looks that way. Although one of us got more sleep than the other. You snore.”
She leaned back, her gaze snapping up to meet his. “I do not!”
He laughed. “Yeah, you do, but don’t worry. It’s cute as hell.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
“Relax. It barely made it on the snoring meter. In fact, if I were you, I’d still go with that ‘I don’t snore’ angle.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t have pointed it out then,” she huffed.
“Never claimed to be a gentleman, Vee.”
No he hadn’t.
And she’d learned firsthand how un-gentlemanly he could be.
Memories surfaced of lying in his arms in a similar position and her heart sped up. For all the pain she’d felt when he’d walked away, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she’d found in his arms.
Her first time had been a magical experience she wouldn’t wish away, despite the agony that followed.
“We should get up,” she said. Only she couldn’t bring herself to move.
Not yet.
She’d move in a minute. After she soaked up his nearness and etched every vivid detail of her body pressed along his to memory.
“Or we could stay here a little longer.” His hand tightened on her hip, his fingers flexing as if ready to stop her from going anywhere.
His words, the deep timbre of his voice, had her breath snagging in her throat and her pulse accelerating. His gaze bore into hers and in the fiery blue depths she saw emotions she’d wished for a million years ago.
She’d give anything to close the gap between them and press her lips to his, but fear held her back. If she was reading him wrong…
Her interpretation didn’t matter. He spelled it all out when he raised his head and took her mouth with his.
The kiss was soft—tender—and more devastating for its lack of demand.
He nibbled on her lips, slid his tongue across them, and explored her mouth from corner to corner.
His breath was warm, mingling with hers as he continued the gentle caresses.
She remembered his slow, drugging kisses. Remembered the way he could drive her insane with the barest brush of his lips.
Moaning, she opened her lips in invitation. Only he had other plans.
His mouth left hers to trail along her jaw. He nuzzled the hollow beneath her ear sending a shiver down her neck and a wave of goose bumps over her skin.
A needy cry slipped up her throat as her back arched, pressing her breasts into his chest.
Her nipples puckered, the taut nubs aching for his touch.
