Page 30 of Last Call at the Doghouse

She broke the contact and reached down to unbutton his shirt. She wanted his skin under her hands, his bare body against hers. Mitch Duncan naked was about to be more than a dream, more than a fantasy, and she wanted it all.

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he stood and finished the job of undressing. Quickly. Underneath those clothes he had a man’s body; muscled and a little hairy in all the right places. He was wonderfully hard in all the right places, too.

Armi pulled the t-shirt she’d been sleeping in over her head and tossed it aside. Duncan flipped back the quilt she’d been hiding under and reached for her panties, slipping them down and off. They landed on the floor with their other discarded things. And then he was with her, beside her, heavy and hot and hard. He kissed her again; she draped her leg over his hip to bring him closer.

The bed did squeak a little. She heard it once, twice, and then she dismissed the noise as unimportant. Maybe the walls were thicker than she realized and no one would hear…

He slipped his hand between their bodies and stroked her. “There are things I intended to tell you before we got here.”

“Shut up,” she whispered. Anything he had to say could wait.

“You’re the boss.”

He rolled her onto her back and thrust, filling her. He moved easily at first, then harder. For a split second, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Trusting him. Needing him. Giving in to what she wanted.

But soon all thoughts passed, overpowered by the physical. Armi was lost in a fog, so deep in need and desire that nothing else mattered. She was lost in Duncan; in what she needed from him, in what every touch, every kiss, promised.

She moved with him and against him, each move a part of an ancient dance, each thrust and sway taking her closer and closer to the end.

Release hit her hard, so hard she cried out. He kissed her, dampening her cry as waves of pleasure continued, on and on. He came with her; she felt his pleasure almost as she’d felt her own. Physically, mentally, spiritually. He slowed, stilled, and rolled to the side with her caught in his arms.

Sex was good. It had never been that good except in her dreams. Dreams of Duncan.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered.

“So are you.”

Everything was deeply quiet for a few minutes. Nothing in the big house moved; no one breathed but the two of them. At least it seemed that way to her. For a precious while, they were alone. In the house, in Mystic Springs, in the world.

That kind of blessed isolation couldn’t last.

He sighed as he pulled her close again. “Fair warning. If I share this bed with you we won’t make it to morning without doing that again.”

Thank goodness. She had no regrets, and she wasn’t done with Mitch Duncan yet. “Then we better not bother putting our clothes back on.”

* * *

They were late for breakfast, but there was still coffee in the dining room, along with a selection from the local bakery. Mitch grabbed a doughnut, wishing for bacon and eggs but not at all sorry that last night’s activities had caused them to sleep late. Armi went for a cinnamon roll and the largest coffee cup she could find.

The upside to missing a hot breakfast was that they had the dining room to themselves.

Armi claimed a small table near a window that overlooked the back yard. He sat across from her, happy for the view, wondering if last night had been a huge mistake for both of them.

He felt closer to her than ever, and it had nothing to do with Mystic Springs and her part—their part—in a coming war. It was too damn personal. Tonight he should take his place on the floor again.

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

“I need to call Mary in a bit, when I’m sure she’s awake,” Armi said. She took a big bite of her sweet and rolled her eyes in delight. “Oh my God, this is good.”

If she moaned or made that little sound deep in her throat he was likely to lose it. “What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know. If I knew what to say I would’ve called her last night. I actually started to when I woke up and found you gone, but I stopped myself.” She took another bite of the cinnamon roll. No reaction, this time. After she swallowed and took a swig of coffee, she said, “If I out-and-out warn her about Sonny, she’ll wonder how I know. She’ll be embarrassed, maybe so embarrassed she won’t be there when we get home. Mary is a very private person, very…” Her brows wrinkled, and she set her breakfast to the side. “She’s very cautious, so sleeping with Sonny or anyone else she barely knows doesn’t make sense.”

“Can you be sure she barely knows him?” Mitch asked. “What if he’s been in her life for a while?” As he asked, the wheels in his brain turned. Armi trusted her friends, her Mystic Springs family… him. Mitch trusted himself and her, and that was it. Was Mary a plant, a spy? Sweet as she seemed, maybe it was all just an act. Sonny was definitely up to no good, so anyone connected to him was suspect.

Armi wasn’t likely to see it that way.

“If he drugged her, slipped her the same damn love potion he used on me when I was seventeen, then… I have to warn her. I have to find a way.”