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“Writing poetry?” I sat on the arm of the couch beside him, deliberately leaning forward so my shirt tightened just right.
He didn’t appear to notice. “No, making lists for all the wedding shit we have to do in very little time. I looked at a wedding planning website.” He studied his list instead of my breasts. If they were bigger, I wouldn’t have to compete, dammit. “Honey, we’re fucked.”
I reached out to flick my fingers through the ends of his hair. “Fucking sounds nice.”
He blinked. Blinked again. Then he looked up, finally buying a very large clue. “Your sister is just down the hall.”
“So? Like you never did it next to Brady.”
“Um, no, I did not. That’s creepy.” The tips of his ears turned bright pink. “The stripper doesn’t count.”
“More strippers. Here I live this wholesome life, and you’re coveting sex workers to dance for you.”
“They do more than dance. Also they aren’t sex workers. Sex is strictly prohibited on the premises. After hours, however…” His Adam’s apple bounced. “Are you not wearing a bra?”
“Check for yourself and see.”
He swallowed again. “You had one on earlier.”
“This is why you make the big bucks.” I traced my fingertip over my nipple, biting my lip as it hardened under his stare. “If it’ll make you feel more productive, show me your list.”
“I’d rather show you something else first. C’mere.” He tugged on my hand and I landed in his lap.
I discovered he might be slow on the uptake now and then, but some parts of him were instantly all thrusters operational.
He tugged the headband out of my hair and sent it flying before he fisted a handful of my curls and dragged my mouth to his. While we kissed, hands roaming all over, much as we’d done in his truck last night, he shifted me so I was straddling the bulge in his jeans.
When I moaned, he broke our kiss to clamp his hand over my mouth even as his hard grip on my hip worked me up and down over his erection. The pressure on my clit was just right, and I bit his fingers helplessly as the heat inside me exploded.
His eyes widened as he realized I wasn’t just close to coming—I already had. But that burst of warmth had barely taken the edge off.
He cupped my cheek and drew me down for another kiss, his tongue streaking into my mouth as I fumbled between us to undo his button and zipper.
Instead of giving me the green light, he grasped my hand in his much bigger one. The way he dwarfed me was just one more turn-on in an endless list of them. “Let’s go next door,” he said in a low voice.
“What?”
“To your sister’s place. We can leave her a note to text when she wakes up.”
“So first our siblings think we desecrated Brady’s bed, now we’ll move the action to Tab’s?”
“Who said anything about a bed? Pretty sure she has a working bathroom.”
“I like the way you think.”
Pancake picked that moment to trot over to the couch and lean up on his stubby legs to be lifted up. He could jump up if given proper encouragement, but he tended to look for lift service if he could con someone into giving it to him.
“If you come up here, you’re staying here until we get back.” Maverick’s stern speech did not slow Pancake’s frantic tail wagging, so he gave the dog a boost. He promptly wedged his way between us and climbed up Mav’s chest to give him an enthusiastic tongue kiss.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Guess you’re popular with both species.”
He grinned. “When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”
I scrawled a quick note for my sister then made sure the other two dogs were occupied with their chew toys. Pancake had promptly gone to sleep in the warm spot Mav had vacated.
I doubted we’d need long for this. We’d be back in no time.
Once we were next door, Mav told Alexa to play something I didn’t recognize, and a moment later, low, seductive jazz heavy on the saxophones filled the room.
