Oh hell yes, they’d played. And played. Like five times, they’d played.
No bra, so her nipples at least showed through. There was that.
He, however, was a man of least resistance, so he didn’t get dressed at all. Clothes were way too confining when a girl brought her vibrating lipstick tube to bed.
“They’re talking about the wedding.” She continued flipping, eyes on her cell. Which was stupid, because later they had to go back to their lives and there were people in their lives. People who would interrupt.
She sighed.
He didn’t like that sigh.
“You should put the phone down and climb on top,” he suggested.
“How many times can you actually have sex in twelve hours?” she asked, clearly not aware that he had serious stamina when it came to this kind of thing.
“I think we should find out.” He kissed her arm.
“Knox.” She tossed the phone on the nightstand. “We are going to have to talk about what happened last night. And you are going to have to address the baby delivery. It’s totally taking precedence over our wedding.” She lay alongside him, face to face, but with space between their bodies.
Since she was there, he placed his hand on her hip and rubbed circles there with his thumb. His body may have been tired from all the activity, but he wasn’t dead, so his dick stirred.
“What happened last night was we had some pretty epic sex.” He nuzzled her neck.
She chuckled, touched his jaw in a way he hadn’t realized he enjoyed so much. “Yeah. Epic.”
“On the other issue? I’m not talking about it. It’ll go away if I don’t address it.” As did most things in life, except his parents.
“See, you’d think that. But now they got to Craig and Cathy. They’re trying to get to me through my agent, my e-mail…everything.”
His stomach felt a little funny at that, and for the first time in his life the prospect of sex didn’t sound fun. “You gonna talk to them? Tabloids?”
“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “But you should.”
Unfortunately, this conversation was totally wrecking his libido. He rolled on his back, hand to his forehead.
He didn’t want to address it. Was he glad he’d delivered the kid? Yeah, because no one else was there to do it. Sort of like an alone-in-the-shower hand job. Sometimes he just had to handle things. Didn’t make him a hero.
Irina didn’t let him slip away into his own head; she did a press-up over the top of him. But since her arms weren’t so long, mostly her breasts were all up in his grill.
He didn’t mind.
“You are not an asshole,” she whispered against his mouth, wriggling her body down so the core of her lined up with his erection.
“Well, that’s debatable.” He swallowed hard against the thoughts of things written about him.
“No.” She wriggled more. “What I mean is, in the eyes of everyone out there, you are not an asshole. You are Knox and you have great taste in women.” She kissed his lips. “That’s me.” She spread her legs and sat up, so without the barrier of her panties, she’d be riding him cowgirl.
See? That was exactly the problem with putting on clothes in the middle of the honeymoon.
“You’re also good in an emergency sitch,” she reached down to pull off her tee. Now, that’s what he was talking about. “So you should embrace that, own it.”
“Are you trying to get your way by showing me your boobs?” Because it was working. She had great boobs. Big handfuls of breasts that made him reconsider being an ass man.
He used the backs of his hands to trace along the swell of her breasts, over the edges, down to her navel, then back up. “You wanted to talk about something? I can talk for a while.”
“Look how chatty you get when you have something to play with,” she said, pulling his hands to the front so they were at her nipples.
He’d never been so aroused during an important conversation before.
