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Torn between joyful relief and doing a happy dance, which wouldn’t be sexy at all, she gifted him a wry smile and said, “In consideration of your health, there’s only one thing to do.”
“What would that be? Cut me out of these pants?”
She peered up through her lashes. “I think it’s time you strip. For me.” Shrugging with an impish smile, she said, “Seems only fair.” She’d done it enough times for him. In his garage slash gym, in his office, in the gas station…
Nodding, as if considering the much-needed relief, he began to step back. “Go on and get comfortable, then.”
All but skipping to the bed, she lay down, leaning back on her arms. But that wasn’t comfortable so she sat up and grabbed onto one of the pillows as if she needed something to hold on to.
This evening was turning out way better than expected.
He waited as she got comfortable, raised an eyebrow as she then decided to sit back on her haunches. “Okay,” she said with eager enthusiasm. “Continue.”
He went straight for the pants. Likely because of their viselike grip to his junk which made her grin and bring her hands to her mouth.
His hands slid the pants down, somewhat suggestively, but they snagged, which made him have to wiggle and gyrate his way out of them. He hopped on one leg and then yanked, hard on one side and then the other.
It was more comical than sexy. “You’re not even trying,” she said with a frown.
“You try to remove yourself from that torture chamber of trousers and see how sexy you can be.”
“Okay, fine. They’re off. Now do something hot and…you know…super sexy. Dancey, stripper things. You should know what I’m talking about. You recently frequented a strip club.”
He stretched his neck back and forth and then began to slowly unbutton his shirt, jutting his hip to one side and then the other.
Well, that was awkward.
“You and Mia have DNA going back to a sultry Spanish culture, aren’t you supposed to be known for sexy dances like the salsa?”
“That’s a Cuban dance,” he said, trying again with the gyrating of the hips that were over accentuated. More likely to throw a hip out rather than translate as sensual. “You’re thinking about the Flamenco,” he added with another awkward gyration.
Jumping on her knees, she said, “Yes, do that then. The Flamenco.”
“The Flamenco’s not a sexy dance,” he argued. “Besides, I don’t have those finger clickey things. You might be thinking about the Tango.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You seem to know more about the Spanish origins of dance than I would have given you credit for.”
He stopped with the gyrating. Which was good. Birdie thought he might dislocate something.
“Mia has been on a mission to educate me on every aspect of our ancestry.”
“Ooh, I bet that’s going well.” And then her heart grew heavy thinking about how much she missed her daughter. “She means well.”
“And that’s why I listen to her, literally, go and on about it.”
He stood a foot in front of her, his shirt undone and wearing his briefs. She had thought the moment had been lost with his atrocious dance skills and the mention of their daughter, who was no longer theirs biologically.
He hung his head and then lifted it slightly to look at her. “Bird, what I’d really like to do is to show you how much you mean to me. How much I care about you.”
Interesting, no mention of love. But she knew this was no time to be greedy. They had a lot of baggage to unpack and deal with. For now, she would take what she could get before he decided it was all too much.
Pulling at the back collar of his shirt with one hand, he pulled it over his head and threw it to the side. No longer trying to entertain, but rather his eyes greedily consuming her body.
He removed his briefs, and she didn’t think she had ever seen a more beautiful sight than a naked Lucas Santos kneeling before her with hooded eyes and a pulsing erection.
He pulled the protective pillow from her arms and lowered her back to the bed as he crawled over her.
With one leg in between hers, the other at her side, he gazed at her and she tried not to glance away. Overwhelmed by his body so close to hers, and staring down at her as if he could see into the depths of her soul.
