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She laughed. “What’d you expect for a late-night hookup? I already got mine. It’s not like I have to impress you now.”
“Funny.” He poured himself some wine and then sat on the floor next to her while she painted.
“There is a couch over there. I’m sure you’d find it more comfortable than the floor.”
“But that’s pretty far away, and I wouldn’t be able to do this from over there.” His hand wrapped around her ankle and then up the inside of her leg.
She instinctively clenched her thighs as warmth pooled low in her belly. His hand stopped just above her knee.
“I thought you were painting.”
She realized that at his touch, she froze, palette knife in hand. Shaking off the sensations, she said, “You distracted me.”
Refocusing on the canvas, she smeared the dark green on as part of a tree.
“Hmm,” he hummed from the floor. “I like watching you work.”
She did her best to ignore him, but then his hand continued north and her eyes fluttered closed as the possibility of pleasure washed over her.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head. When she opened her eyes, he was kneeling in front of her.
“Was that a no, don’t stop?”
“Definitely don’t stop.” She set the knife on the table.
As he rose from his place on the floor, he scooped her up. She wrapped her legs around him. His fingers cradled her bare ass and he groaned upon finding she wore nothing under the T-shirt. He carried her up the stairs like that, caressing her while she kissed him. London had never been drawn to big, burly guys but she definitely saw the appeal right now.
A girl could get used to being the total focal point of a man’s desire. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her and her body became his plaything, for both their pleasure.
Ezra wokein the morning and London was gone again. Didn’t the woman sleep? He sat up and gathered his clothes from where they’d been tossed the night before. He got dressed and went downstairs. On his way, he smelled coffee, the scent drawing him to the small kitchen area.
“Hey,” London said. “I was just about to wake you. I have some stuff I need to do today, and I have to get going soon.”
“No problem. I’m sure if I don’t get to the shop soon, Bronte will be calling.”
“No rush. You can have some coffee first.”
He walked close, took her cup from her hand, and took a drink. It was too sweet, like her. He couldn’t stop the grimace.
“I wasn’t offering you my coffee. It’s not for everyone.”
“With that much sugar, it’s no surprise you barely sleep.” He reached around her for a new mug and poured half a cup for himself. Black.
“I sleep. It’s just a slightly unconventional schedule.”
“Hmm-mm.” He gulped his coffee so he could get out of her way. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome because he wanted to be invited back. “Can I see you again?”
“You’ll see me tomorrow when I come by to pick up my stuff.”
“Or I could deliver it.”
“Mr. Fisher, are you trying to get invited back into my bed?”
“In your bed, your house...you.” The thought had him hardening in his jeans. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She shivered at the slight touch, and he was sure she was remembering all the places his lips had traveled last night.
She released a shuddering breath. “That is quite the offer.”
