He rolled her onto her back and positioned himself above her on his elbows while she grabbed the box of condoms off her night dresser. “There is only one left. How’d that happen?”
His teeth caught the lobe of her ear, his hot breath making her moan. “I have a theory.”
“Shut up.” She grinned even though a foreign feeling lodged deep inside. Nothing about the situation felt like work, or compromising. She suspected the unfamiliar sensation had a name.
Contentment.
And it scared her to death.
“What’re you thinking, Trouble?” he asked after another hungry kiss.
“Nothing,” she demurred. “It’s too hard when you do that hand trick, that, with the fingers, and oh, that pressure there.” She rested her lips against his cheek, inhaling that addictive woodsy smell, unable to resist adding, “This is good. You and me.”
“Come over tomorrow,” he said at last. “I’ll make you dinner. I make a hell of a steak.”
“Sounds like a plan. On one condition. Can I come now?” He flickered over her swollen sweet spot, answering her question.
Afterward he rolled to face her, walking his fingers over the swell of her hip. “Let’s get serious about tomorrow.”
“Serious how?” Her smile wilted. “Second thoughts already?”
He made anare you kiddingface. “How’d seven suit?”
