She cried his name, but it was muffled in his mouth. He wasn’t ending the kiss any more than he was removing his fingers, and then he started doing such wonderful things with both that the only sounds she made were ones of pure pleasure. She was unaware of spreading her legs wider, even raising her knees, unaware that she was clutching his shoulders for dear life. The pleasure he gave her was so intense that she knew nothing until he quickly brought her over to straddle his lap and thrust into her, when she shattered into a million fragments of joy.
When she returned to earth, her face was buried in his hair, her arms were coiled tightly around his neck, every meeting place of their bodies was wet with sweat, and he was breathing as roughly as she.
“Jesus,” he croaked.
She sputtered out a laugh. “My thought exactly.”
After another minute of slowly diminishing gasps, he said, “What do you do to me?”
“Me? You were the one who started it.” She imitated his deep drawl. “I want you as naked as me.”
“It seemed only fair.”
“Fair? I’ll probably be bowlegged for a week. I’m not conditioned to this.”
“Thank God.” He fell backward and rolled over, came up on his knees, and hoisted Savannah higher on the bed. Grabbing the sheet that had been kicked into a bunch long before, he came down beside her, settled her comfortably in his arms, and drew the sheet high. “I think,” he said slowly, “that I’d like to sleep now.”
Savannah brushed her nose against his chest. “Fine for you to say. You’re not picking up your sister at ten forty-five. If I fall asleep now, I may not wake up.”
“You’ll wake up.”
She hummed out a sound that quite perfectly captured his own sense of pleasant exhaustion.
“You should have set it for twelve,” he murmured against her hair.
“Mmm.”
“Call her and change it.”
“She’ll be furious if I wake her up to tell her she can sleep later.”
“You sound like you’re afraid of her.”
“No.”
“Are you?”
“No. It’s just that she wouldn’t understand why I wanted more time to sleep.”
“You mean to tell me,” he asked slowly, “that she’s never been zonked by early morning love?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the point. The point is that she doesn’t expect it of me.”
“Because you’re the smart one, not the beautiful one?” He gave a sleepy chuckle. “Clue her in.”
But Savannah couldn’t do that. Susan prided herself on being the stronger of the two when it came to sex appeal. As smug as Savannah felt at that moment, she didn’t want to rob Susan of that edge. Her sister felt confident about so little else.
Jared’s breathing lengthened. He was soon asleep. Lulled by the rise and fall of his chest, Savannah followed. When she awoke, it was nearly ten.
“Oh, no,” she murmured, scrambling away from Jared and off the bed. She made straight for the bathroom, within seconds was under the shower, within minutes was out and drying herself as quickly as she could. It was ten-thirty when she picked up the bedroom phone and punched out Susan’s number.
The line was busy.
Jared was sleeping soundly, sprawled on his stomach with one arm over the spot where she should have been.
She tried Susan again. The line was still busy.
Coming down on the edge of the bed, she watched him sleep. He looked totally comfortable and very masculine against the feminine decor. She couldn’t quite believe that he was there, but he didn’t go away when she blinked.
