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“So, counselor,’ she said. “Is it normal for you to be so talkative after sex?”
The wry comment, delivered in that snooty British accent had a smile cracking the rigid line of his lips.
“I’m sorry I messed up all your hard work,” he said.
It must have taken her the better part of the day to get the place as spotless as she had, and he’d behaved like a total dick about that, too. Probably because he’d been so pissed about the shot of delighted lust that had seared him when she stepped out of his bedroom wearing nothing but that butt-hugging T-shirt.
“Are you? I’m not the least bit sorry,” she replied, her gaze dipping to his waist.
The unlikely blush crawled across his collarbone like a Virginia Creeper.
He looked away. Out onto the dock. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to close the drapes. Mr. G could have walked past on his way to the trash receptacle and caught them banging each other senseless on the couch.
He walked over to close the drapes, then turned back to Zelda, her naked body now spotlighted by the sunlight shining through the side windows.
“I should also apologize for jumping you like that,” he added. “I don’t usually treat women with so little respect.” The apology felt pretty hollow, seeing as he wasn’t sure he regretted what he’d done. So, basically, he was guilty not just of balling a woman he barely knew but also guilty of lying about whether he felt sorry about it or not. If he ever got to Father O’Riley’s confessional again in this lifetime, he’d have to say a few thousand extra Hail Marys.
“I’m not sorry about that either,” she declared. “I enjoyed it immensely.” She cocked her head to one side, studying him. “How fascinating, you’re blushing.”
The heat scalded the back of his neck, horrifying him a little more.
“Is that Catholic guilt?” she said. “I always wondered what it looked like when they tried to drum it into me at St. J’s?” A wicked smile hovered, telling him she was having a heck of a lot of fun at his expense. “But really, you don’t need to feel guilty. I don’t. When it comes to respect, I’m all for respecting the restorative qualities of good, hard sweaty sex. Clearly we both needed a good shag. And as God in his infinite wisdom made you so shaggable, I considered it my divine duty to jump you at the first opportunity.”
Had she jumped him? He was pretty sure he’d jumped her. But now he wasn’t so sure.
“And as for showing respect for me as a woman,” she continued. “I think you and your phenomenal cock both excelled yourself.”
Damn but the woman was as badass as she was beautiful. A laugh choked out at the outrageous statement, as his admiration for her increased. “Good to know.”
“Isn’t it though,” she said, the cheeky grin on her face easing his guilty conscience considerably as she got up from the bunk.
“You want to grab the first shower?” He gestured to the bathroom, not quite able to take his eyes off her, even though he knew he should if he wanted to exert some semblance of control over the new erection pressing against the front of his pants. “I can clear this mess up and then dig out another …” He coughed judiciously… “Minidress for you?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
His gaze got momentarily fixated on those cherry ripe nipples bouncing enticingly as she strolled towards him. He jerked his gaze back to her face trying not to behave like a teenage boy who’d just scored his first copy of Playboy. Or paid for his first chance to see what the opposite sex had on their chests.
Unlike what he could remember of Mary Jane, Zelda wasn’t all that well-endowed, her breasts small and firm in keeping with that long slender frame. But he knew more than a couple of journalists had written sonnets to that rack when she’d posed topless for some arty Vanity Fair cover a few years back.
The thought of her fame, and her wild reputation, went some way to dousing the fire igniting his pants. But not much. He could hardly claim to be the poster boy for mature and sensible behavior after the last twenty minutes.
“I’ll get dressed again on one condition?” Drawing level with him, she cradled his jaw.
Her thumbnail scraped through the whiskers on his chin. The five o’clock shadow prickled, sending shivers of awareness zinging down his spine. And straight into his nuts.
“Which is?” He cocked an eyebrow. Not really sure he wanted her clothed, but knowing he’d never get anything done if he didn’t agree to her terms.
“You promise to let me rustle up a replacement supper. You look washed out and I consider that my fault.”
He rested his hand on her waist, forcing himself not to let it slide down and cup one of her delicious butt cheeks. “I’m a big boy. One bout of hot sweaty sex isn’t going to kill me.” I hope.
“Actually I was talking about last night and that two o’clock wake up call,” she said, pricking his conscience again—because he knew for sure he didn’t deserve her sympathy after his dickish behavior then too.
“I certainly hope you’re not exhausted from the sex,” she added. “Because I may demand another round, once you’re sufficiently recuperated to appreciate it.”
He chuckled, the audaciousness of the comment as saucy as the defiance in her eyes. Jesus but the woman was a ball buster. Why did that only make her more irresistible? “Don’t tempt me. My resistance is pretty low at the moment.”
“Even better,” she said. “Because I have a favor to ask you.”
