Page 65 of Bared

“I was the last time I checked.”

Another hit of relief, as she pushed out a groggy laugh. “It is really you.”

He lowered a kiss to her nose. “In the flesh.”

“Such nice flesh too.”

He didn’t fight his king-of-the-world smirk. It vanished as soon as she reached up and palmed the center of his chest. Brick gulped before scooping up her hand and gently bussing her knuckles. And now, yet again, he wanted to do so much more. Take this affection further…

He had to get her dressed again. Hell, he had to put his own shirt back on.

“You okay?”

“I…think so.”

“Hmm.” He frowned. “I don’t.”

“Huh?” she blurted.

“You’re parched.” He confirmed it by sliding a thumb across her bottom lip. “Stay right here.”

He rose and headed for the kitchen. When he returned with a glass of water and all her clothes, the princess was standing next to the window, which she’d just finished opening.

Brick growled. “You know what stay means, don’t you?”

She arched a pretty brow. “And you know what I’m hot means too?”

“That’s a given, Pixie. But right now, your delectable little self can be hot over here.”

“If I stay over here, do I get spankings?”

“No. You’ll get a long lesson in topping from the bottom.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“And then a lesson in orgasm denial.”

Well, that took care of her pants-free dawdling. Fortunately, the window ledge hit her high at the waist, and the pane itself could only be rolled out a few inches. Still, Brick handed over her panties and leggings first—along with a don’t-even-think-about-saying-no stare.

Without a word, the smart little sprite started putting her clothes back on.

For long minutes, Brick didn’t say anything either. He parked himself on the lounger in the corner and appreciated his last few views of her nudity. In the subdued light of the bedroom, her skin glowed like warm caramel. Her movements were efficient but exquisite, a ballerina’s by any other name. Until…

Christ.

“Hey. You’re still shaking.” Not as violently as before, but enough that he noticed.

“I am fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Brickham.” No chance she’d be correcting herself to Sir this time. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Says the girl who just attempted to yell the roof down? This time for all the wrong reasons?”

A cute snicker from her lush lips. “And you are the one who would know the difference.”

He pulled up one knee. Rested an elbow atop it. From across that new trajectory, he was able to inject her with a harder stare. “I’ve had some experience with crappy dreams. Even more with the monsters who can cause them.”