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Wow. Talk about sticking to them. He’d found himself unable to let her go, not wanting her more than a few inches away from him for the past sixteen-or-so hours. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to walk today, considering the number of times and ways they’d had sex the night before. Not since he was a teenager had his sexual desire been so frantic, so unending. Throughout the night, no matter what they did, or where they did it, he’d found himself ready to plunge into Viv’s tight, delicious body again minutes after leaving her.
It took a while for her to answer. He could hear her own heaving breaths begin to slow as she, too, sprawled out on the bed. Kicking the tangled sheets away from her calves she sighed as the air-conditioned breeze cooled her hot body.
Oh, so hot.
He couldn’t stop himself from looking over at her. There wasn’t an inch of her he hadn’t tasted during the long, erotic hours of the night. He was tempted to roll over and press another kiss in the hollow of her throat, to taste his way down to a perfect nipple, so red and saucy from his avid attention. There wasn’t a bit of her that wasn’t delicious, not a thing they’d done that he would ever regret.
His only regret was the possibility that she’d meant what she said about this being a one-night stand. He might have agreed to it yesterday, out of habit, since he’d long ago realized he was much more the one-night-stand than the fall-in-love-and-settle-down type.
Frankly, he wasn’t sure falling in love and staying that way forever was even programmed in his genetic code. His father had been the greatest dad on earth, but he’d borne no love for his wife, at least not that Damien had witnessed. Both sets of grandparents had divorced, as had his sister.
As for his mother—well, that chick in the Frozen movie had nothing on her. He’d started viewing her as the ice queen when he was just a kid, and the temperature had just grown colder as she’d aged.
So, no, Damien wasn’t the love-and-romance type. Never had been.
He blinked, rubbing a hand over his eyes, pushing those images away. Now certainly wasn’t the time to do a postmortem on his childhood or an evaluation of his ability to ever actually fall in love. He was lying in bed with a woman he craved, one he knew he couldn’t let go of yet.
She didn’t mean it about just one night.
Or, if she did, she would certainly change her mind after what they’d shared. Because he suspected encounters like that were earth-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime events that some people never even got to experience. And he was a greedy enough bastard to want to experience it again. He hoped she was, too.
Finally, she replied, but not with an appreciative purr.
“Let me guess, math wasn’t your best subject in school,” she said with a broad yawn.
“Excuse me?”
“Pretty sure it was eleven.”
His eyes narrowed but then he noticed the hint of mischief lurking in her sleepy blue eyes. He played along, certain he’d given her far more than the eleven stated orgasms. Christ, she’d come twice in the five minutes after they’d left the elevator.
“Well, far be it for me to make a promise and not keep it. I figured you were worn out after getting such a small amount of sleep last night, but...”
She waggled her brows. “I’m never too tired for that.”
“Guess I’d better get back to work then,” he said, rolling toward her, an indulgent smile on his face.
“It’s work?”
He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the brush of her silky hair against his cheek. “Only because it’s a job worth doing well.”
She rolled onto her side to face him, sliding one long, slender leg between his, draping an arm across his shoulders. “I don’t want to be any trouble. I mean, heaven forbid you hurt yourself or something.”
“Baby, if what we did on the desk didn’t hurt me, I should be able to handle one more round of ‘make a greedy woman come.’”
Swatting him, she said, “I’m not greedy. I just appreciate a person who keeps his promises.”
“Okay,” he said with a laugh, “but I fear you’re the one who’s math-challenged.”
Licking her lips, she admitted, “The quantity was right.”
He stiffened. “You complaining about my quality?”
“God, no,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “But I distinctly remember you saying twelve different ways.”
Ahh, now he got it. “So I did.”
“And while your tongue has a score of four all by itself, I don’t remember twelve completely unique situations.”
Hmm. That was an interesting challenge. He did a quick recap in his mind, remembering the elevator, the foyer, the bar, the desk, the shower and the bed. Oh, this bed. It—with her nestled beside him—was rapidly becoming his favorite place in the world. They’d rolled around on it in position after position, pausing to sleep, stopping for a snack sometime around midnight, then playing and sleeping some more. It had been a night he would never—ever—forget.
