“Get them off,” she hissed, dropping down to her knees. “Are they in my hair? Check my hair!”
I tried hard not to laugh as I reached back and hit the light switch, blanketing the room in darkness.
“Now, you won’t be able to see them,” Rose said fearfully, her voice wobbling.
“They’re attracted to the light above you,” I replied, reaching for her. She shuddered as I pulled her against me. “No light and they’ll leave.”
“Please check my hair,” she said quietly. “It feels like they’re crawling all over me.”
“They’re gone,” I murmured, running my fingers through her long, dark hair. “Nothin’ is in your hair.”
“I hate moths,” she grumbled.
“My fault,” I replied, kissing the top of her head. “I left the damn window open.”
“You should have a screen,” she said seriously.
“I’ll get right on that.”
“Please close the window.”
“On it,” I said. She was naked except for her bra, and it was downright painful to let her go. I hurried to the window and slid it closed just as Rose began to laugh.
“Jesus,” she gasped through her giggles. “That must have been sexy as hell, watching me freak out because of a bug.”
“I’d pay to see the show again,” I replied seriously, trying to hide my smile.
“Wait,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “I could get paid for this?”
I couldn’t stop the loud guffaw that left my mouth. She was a fucking trip.
“It’s a sliding scale,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her off her feet. “Moth fights don’t pay much.”
“What about naked moth fights?” she asked, smiling as I tossed her onto the bed.
“Depends on who’s naked.”
Rose laughed again, but the sound cut off as I pulled off my t-shirt. There was enough moonlight that I could see her pretty clearly as she licked her lips and folded her arms behind her head, watching me.
“I’m the naked one,” she said huskily as I pushed my shorts off.
“Not yet,” I pointed out, nodding toward the bra she still had on.
“Easily remedied.”
It was my turn to stare as she rolled a little to the side and reached back to unclasp her bra. Without fanfare, she pulled it away from her skin and dropped it on the far side of the bed.
“I’ll turn the light back on and you can earn some cash,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry as the Mojave.
“Touch that light switch and you’re a dead man,” she warned, smiling.
I’d seen every part of her the night before, traced every hill and valley more than once, but that didn’t seem to matter as I stood frozen beside the bed trying to decide which part of her I wanted to touch first. Every shadow was like a hidden treasure, and every inch highlighted by the moon was damn near mesmerizing. Every part of her was gorgeous, from her full lips to the way her thick hips tapered to muscular legs and small feet. She looked like a fucking painting. One of the really old ones where the women were curvy and smooth in all the right places.
“Well, if you’re just going to watch,” she said, the last word drawn out. Her arm slid from behind her head, and I damn near had a heart attack as her hand slid between her legs.
“Oh, fuck that,” I muttered, climbing onto the bed.
She laughed as I jerked her legs apart and knelt between them, and in the back of my mind, I realized that I liked when she did that. Rose was prickly and she didn’t take shit from anyone, but when she was happy—you knew it.
Her laughter stopped as I scooted down the bed, and she gasped as I put my mouth on her. I liked it when she made that noise, too. Rose tasted good everywhere, and I groaned as she grew wetter against my mouth.
I’d been with plenty of women, all shapes and sizes, and I’d realized a long ass time ago that none of that surface shit mattered. The only thing that mattered was participation. The difference between a woman who let sex happen and one that actively participated was like the difference between gas station food and a steak hot off the grill. There was no comparison.
Rose didn’t let anything happen to her. She rolled her hips and scratched at my shoulders, gripped the sides of my head with her thighs and pulled my hair. There wasn’t anything passive about her. After she came, she pulled at my shoulders, urging me up the bed so she could kiss me and run her lips down my neck.
“Condom?” she asked, her hands reaching between us, one hand wrapping around my cock and the other cupping my balls. I shuddered as I blindly reached for a condom in the drawer of my nightstand.
Rose only moved her hands long enough for me to roll the condom on, and then they were back, guiding me inside her. The hum she made as I bottomed out gave me honest-to-God goosebumps, and I gritted my teeth against the urge to groan my reply.