“Yes.” Milan nodded. “It was more than sex. An extra dimension.”
“What was so different?”
“I think… I was thinking about you. About how you were experiencing everything. It was all for you.”
“That’s it,” said Lydia. “I would call it love.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
He held her until the room grew dark.
“One thing about love,” he said at last.
“What?”
“It makes you hungry. I’m going to call room service.”
She giggled and snuggled closer into the crook of his elbow.
Chapter Twelve
Kisses woke Lydia—kisses leading to caresses, gentle at first then firmer until her breath was heavy and she radiated heat.
She lay beneath Milan, her arms around his neck, watching his chest rise and fall as he eased back and forth inside her. Her eyes were still gluey from sleep, her limbs lazy. The perfect conditions for slow, easy morning sex.
The hammering on the door, however, somewhat ruined the mood.
Milan uttered a Czech oath and tried to ignore it, speeding up his stroke.
“Milan,” whispered Lydia urgently.
“They can go away,” he growled.
But the hammering continued, followed by the rattling of a doorknob.
Milan held himself still, poised halfway through a push-up, waiting for the noise to cease or for the noisemaker to reveal his or her identity.
“Milan!” The voice was male, the accent Russian.
“Fuck off, Evgeny,” shouted Milan. “I’m sleeping.”
“No, you aren’t. Let me in, or I’ll wake everyone in this damn hotel.”
Milan sighed and crumpled on to Lydia’s spread-eagled body.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pulling out of her and throwing on a bathrobe before striding to the door, erection poking against the satin.
Lydia sat up and let her shoulders slump. Reality time. Perhaps it really had all been too good to be true.
Within seconds, Evgeny had cannoned into the room, rumpled and scowling, dark hair mussed across his brow.
“I hope you slept well,” said Milan mildly. “Slept off all that vodka.”
“I’ve been awake all night,” he snarled. “Waiting for you. But I see that you’ve been busy with your little woman. What’s going on, Milan? When in Prague, do as the straight guys do? Is that it?”
“Don’t be stupid, Evgeny. Prague is one of the most tolerant cities in Eastern Europe. If I want to take a man out here, I can. I just prefer my lovers to be conscious.”