‘I see.’ She shifted against him in a way that made his hands clamp around her waist. ‘So what kind of subjects currently interest you?’
‘Well, just lately I’ve grown very interested in social media.’
He watched as she let her hair down, shaking it loose so that it tumbled over her shoulders.
‘Anything else?’
‘Billiards.’
‘Really?’
This time as she shifted the towel flared around her hips and a tingle of heat tightened his muscles as he caught a glimpse of red-gold curls.
‘Anything else?’ she asked again, softly.
‘Foxes.’ He sucked in a breath as she leaned forward and ran a finger down the dark line of hair bisecting his abdomen. ‘Female foxes in particular.’
The small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth made a complex mix of heat and tension spike inside him.
‘And how do you plan on finding out about female foxes?’ she asked.
He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll start with a thorough and exhaustive examination of any previous research.’ As her hand slid beneath the bedclothes, his hands tightened around the edges of the towel. ‘Although I’m guessing that sounds a little academic and dry.’
‘Maybe a little academic...’ Raising her hips, she tugged the towel loose and let it fall down her body. Their eyes met and he moved his hands up her back, caressing the indentation of her waist as she lifted her hips and then lowered herself onto him. ‘But definitely not dry.’
He sucked in a sharp breath. She was warm, slick, tight. ‘That’s good,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘That’s so good.’
‘Then what will you do?’ she whispered.
She was shivering as if she was cold, but her skin felt hot and smooth, like sun-baked sand.
‘I’ll go out into the field...do some hands-on research of my own.’
He cupped her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples so that she arched forward, her mouth forming a long, slow amorphous syllable. He felt his control snap. Reaching up, he brought her face down to his and kissed her fiercely, his groan of pleasure mingling with hers as he rolled her beneath him and surrendered to the impossible need building inside them.
* * *
Later, tucked against his warm body, Frankie lay with her head against Arlo’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.
She was still trying to catch her breath.
Each time it happened she kept expecting it to be different. For the spell to be broken, the magic to have gone. But each time was the same.
Not the same, she corrected herself. That made it sound boring, and in bed, as in life, Arlo was adventurous and passionate and tireless.
He felt so good. Big and warm and strong, so that even in the eye of the storm, when his hard body was driving in
to hers, she could sense the solid core of him. And afterwards, in his arms, she felt so calm, so safe.
Closing her eyes, she turned her face into the hollow beneath his shoulder, breathing in his scent. She could feel body softening against his. Except it wasn’t just her body that was softening. The last few days had turned everything she’d thought to be true on its head, so that it was hard to believe she had once found him horrible and rude and arrogant.
And it wasn’t just the sex. Yesterday, he had been kind to her, and gentle—tender, almost—and it was making her feel tender towards him. Particularly after what he’d told her about his parents.
And it was okay to feel that way, she thought defensively. There was no need to overthink it. It wasn’t as if she was in love with him or anything.
‘What are you thinking?’
She blinked. Arlo was looking down at her, his eyes resting on her face. Hoping very much that he couldn’t read her thoughts, she said quickly, ‘Just about how beautiful it looks outside.’