Page 66

“Are you hungry?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek. “I was thinking we could make some coffee and try those scones before we head over to your cottage.”

“Eventually. But I thought we might have those after a shower. I’m rather looking forward to trying your bathroom facilities again.”

“Sounds good. We’ve got time.”

I smiled and ran my hand over his shoulder.

“You know, we still have a little while before breakfast, and I’ve just thought of something else I’d enjoy doing.”

Hudson turned toward me, amusement spreading across his face.

“Something that means we’re not getting out of bed yet?”

“Precisely.”

I kissed him, taking my time, and felt his arms close around me.

The scones could wait.

I had woken in the night, cold, and pulled on my pajama top, a decision Hudson had been treating as a clerical error since he’d noticed. His hand found the first button now and undid it without ceremony.

“Overdressed,” he said.

“It’s flannel. It’s practically armor.”

“Then it can come off.” Another button gave way, then a third, and his knuckles brushed the curve of my breast on the way down. “Is that all right?”

“It’s exactly right. Keep going.”

He did, and by the time he reached the last button, I had slid one leg over his hip and moved close enough to feel how pleased he was to see me. He was naked and entirely awake, and the way he caught his breath when I rolled my hips against him made me smile into his shoulder.

“You’re very sure of yourself this morning,” he said.

“I’ve had practice. Four sessions in two days is practically a seminar.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“I’m told it’s good to have a field of study.” I pushed the flannel off my shoulders, and he drew it down my arms and tossed it somewhere beyond the quilt. We lay on our sides, face to face, with my leg draped over his and his hand sliding down my back to cup my bottom. His mouth found mine, and then my jaw, and then the place below my ear that made me shiver. I reached between us and wrapped my fingers around him, and he groaned.

“You don’t need to do anything fancy,” I told him. “Just touch me the way you did last night.”

“Which part of last night?”

“The part with the circles.”

“I know exactly which part.” His hand moved between my thighs. He found me already slick, and the satisfied rumble he gave when he discovered it made me laugh. “You’re a menace.”

“I’m well rested.”

His fingers moved over my clit in slow, light circles, and I stroked him in rhythm, firmer on the way up, the way he liked it. We didn’t say much. We breathed together, and every so often one of us laughed at something unspoken. His nose bumped mine. A pillow slid off the edge of the bed and thudded onto the rug, and we both laughed so hard that we had to stop and start again.

“I’m ready,” I said. “Please, now.”

He shifted my hips and guided himself into me, a slow slide that felt natural, even easy, as if we’d been doing it for years. I pressed my forehead against his and let out a long breath. We moved together, small, rocking motions at first, with his hand still between us and his eyes on mine. I could see every fleck of green in them.

“Good morning,” I whispered.

“It really is.”