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I slid out of the seat and held out my hand so that I could help her out as well. I slipped on my rucksack so it was balanced evenly, then held her hand as we exited the restaurant. The maître d gave us a smile as we left the restaurant. We were able to go to the elevators without passing reception.

“This is a wonderful room,” Marlowe exclaimed. “You have a great view of the forest.”

“It is,” I agreed. I shed the backpack and went over to where she stood next to the window. She turned around to face me, then stepped closer so that we were touching, chest to breast.

“I like your bed, too. It’s king size. Perfect.”

“I like it, too,” I muttered.

“I’d kiss you, but you’re too tall. How about if I do this?” she asked, as she reached up and slipped her arms around my neck. She put just the slightest pressure on my neck, just as she always did. She remembered that I had been injured there. Just one more thing I liked about Marlowe Jones; she remembered things like that and was always aware and considerate.

“If you do that, then I’m going to do this.” I grazed my lips over hers, just a soft brush, teasing us both. Her hands moved up, tangling in my hair, nails scraping my scalp. God, that felt good. I licked her bottom lip, and she opened. This kiss was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Gentle and needy in a way that demanded more. My tongue slowly pushed for entrance, and Marlowe sucked me inside her warmth.

I felt her body sink against me. Such a precious, subtle weight. I felt the hard peaks of her nipples scraping my chest through the layers of our clothes and as our kiss deepened I couldn’t help but wonder what the tips of her breasts would look like. Taste like.

Marlowe began to rub her tongue against mine and I was back in the moment, swirling in the sensual tempest that was Marlowe’s kiss. She broke away for air, and I took that moment to bite her lower lip. I heard a low growl, and I laughed. I wanted to sweep her up and carry her to my bed, but I couldn’t. Instead, I turned and propelled her toward the bed.

“Oh yes,” she purred. “I’ll get to see you naked.”

I closed my eyes for just a moment and realized that for the first time since all of my operations, somebody other than a medical professional was going to see my mangled flesh.

“I hope you like scars,” I teased.

“They turn me on more than tattoos.” She grinned up at me. “You show me your scars, and I’ll show you my tattoo. Deal?”

I laughed. She constantly made me laugh. I loved that.

“You first,” I said, as I pushed her to a sitting position on the side of the bed, then knelt down between her legs. Before I could even blink, she had her t-shirt over her head.

She hissed.

“Dammit.” I could see where she had been pulled back by the seatbelt. “You need ice on that bruise.” I stood up to get the laundry bag out of the closet so I could fill it with ice.

“Don’t you dare leave me. I’ll ice this after sex.”

“You’ll ice before sex.”

She grabbed my hand with both of hers. “Please, Kai. I need this. It’s more than just sex. I’m going to lose it if you don’t make love to me. I need this closeness, the feeling of being wanted.”

“Baby, you are wanted. And you’ll be just as wanted after I put ice on your bruise.”

“Just wait for a few minutes,” she urged.

I slowly smiled. “If you think this would only take a few minutes, you’ve been sleeping with the wrong men.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Man. I slept with the wrong man.”

I got what she was saying. She’d only slept with the dickwad stalker. She was right, she needed this. Ice could wait. She must have seen the decision in my eyes, because she smiled in relief.

“Can you take off your shirt now?”

I nodded, then pulled off my tee.

I waited for her to say something.

“You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”

I thought she was bullshitting me, until I saw her eyes roam over my chest and abs like I was ice cream on a hot day. I knelt back down and pulled off her shoes and socks, then pulled off her jeans and panties. That left her in just her bra.