Can't Buy Me Love (Sinclair Sisters 3)

“Technically, we’re on the bed, not in it. When I came back after rigging sensors to the doors, you were out cold.” Unlike hers, his soft voice sounded low and sexy. Intimate. It made her want to close her eyes again and drift away while listening to him.

“And you just decided to lie down beside me?”

“I was watching the monitors, but, about four o’clock, you wrapped yourself around me and pulled me back onto the bed. Then you climbed on top of me, mumbled something about central heating and fell asleep. It seemed rude to move you.”

“Huh.” Agnes frowned, confused. “Did the thief turn up?” Had she slept through it? Had Logan let her?

“Not yet.” His fingertips traced down her cheek to her jaw, making her skin tingle in their wake. He watched their progress, his attention absolute.

She groaned and thumped her forehead on his chest. “We need different plan. I can’t spend another night watching security footage, hoping the thief will show.”

“Agnes, love, you haven’t spent even one night watching the feeds. And there was no we. This plan was all your idea. Anyway, now that the doors are rigged, you can sleep until the alarm wakes you.” He caressed her hair. “Did you know you sleep curled up like a cute little kitten? And you purr.”

Her head shot back up, and she glared at him. “I don’t purr.” The thought of it was completely outrageous. She was fierce. If she made any noise at all, it would be a roar.

“Well, technically, it’s snoring. But it’s still adorable.” His thumb traced the outline of her lips, building a slow warmth deep inside of her.

“When I’m more awake, I’m going to get you back for that comment.”

“I’ll make sure to wear protective gear.”

That reminded her of his nose. “Is it sore?”

“Just a bit swollen.” His eyes sparkled at her. “I have other concerns right now.”

“I feel bad about hitting you.” No, that wasn’t strictly true. “I mean, I feel I should feel bad about hitting you, and I feel guilty that I don’t.”

A slow, teasing smile curled his lips. “If it helps, you could kiss it better.”

One of his hands curved around her shoulder, and she felt the slow caress of his other hand on her back. The blue light from the screens cast his features in soft shadow, but that didn’t detract from the sheer maleness of him. In the back of Agnes’ sleep-dulled brain, there was a weak reminder that she didn’t want to start anything with Logan. That there were complications that could bite them both in the rear. But in that moment, none of those sensible arguments for caution meant very much. As desire seeped into her fog-ridden head, all she could think about was the feeling of Logan’s body under hers. And it was wonderful.

She wriggled farther up his chest, putting one hand flat on the bed beside his head. With the other, she cupped his cheek and gently traced the edge of his nose with her thumb. She wasn’t sorry she’d hit him. So she couldn’t apologize with any honesty, but she found that she didn’t like to see him injured. And it made her uncomfortable to think she’d been the cause of it. It was as though she’d suddenly developed a conscience overnight, and it was…unpleasant.

Slowly, Agnes leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. His hands flexed on her body, making her breath hitch as she made little butterfly kisses across the bridge of his nose.

“Better?” she whispered, sounding faintly breathless.

“My cheekbone took a bit of a whack too,” he rumbled.

She kissed across his cheekbones, first one, then the other, making sure she didn’t miss anything. His hold on her tightened as he pulled her firmly against him.

“We done now?” she asked, when she looked into those dark eyes of his.

“My lips. You smacked them on the way to my nose.”

“Poor baby,” she whispered. “You really suffered.”

“It was terrible,” he whispered back. “But I’m sure you kissing them better will help.”

“Seems the least I can do.” And with that, Agnes brushed her lips against his.

That’s all it took. Just one, gentle touch, lips to lips, breathing each other’s air, and she was free-falling. The room, the hotel, the ground beneath them, it all faded away. She became lost in the moment. In the feeling of Logan’s lips teasing hers. Of hers teasing his. It was a slow, thorough tasting. Kiss, after kiss, after kiss. Each one more drugging than the last.

Her fingers threaded through his hair. His hand clasped her nape. A moan. A sigh. Tongues tangled with groans of need. The world tipped and turned until she was on her back with Logan’s weight pressing into her, their legs entwined, their arms enfolding each other. The taste of him took her far away. To a place with fragrant meadows. Where, in the dark nights of summer, the warmth of the day would enclose her as the stars appeared like a blanket overhead. A haven of heady sensuality, just for her. Somewhere she didn’t have to think, where she only had to feel. A place where she felt safe.

Until the beeping intruded.

With clear reluctance, Logan broke their kiss. Dark eyes, filled with a stunned need, stared into her soul.