“I’m still waiting,” she said when he moved his lips to her neck.
“For what, exactly?”
He made tiny circles with his tongue over the scars on her neck and felt inordinately pleased when all she did was groan with pleasure. Looked like that scar problem was knocked on the head. To be sure, he caressed his way down her side, covering all of her scars. She writhed against him. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Then her lush lips kissed his chest before biting him hard.
“Ow,” he said.
“You aren’t listening to me,” she told him.
“I’m kind of busy here.”
“Yeah, but I’m still waiting.”
“Okay, Kirsty, what are you waiting for?”
“The other double oh,” she said.
He could see her grinning in the dark. She wrapped her other leg around his waist.
“You are so demanding,” he told her. “I’m trying to stretch this out for you.”
“Well, do it faster,” she said.
He slid his hand between her legs.
“This fast enough for you?” he said.
“No.” She pushed up towards him as her hand scrambled across the bed beside her.
“Here.” She thrust a packet in his face. “Speed things up, then we’ll have a little talk about technique.”
Lake threw back his head and laughed as he took the condom.
Then he wrapped her up tight in his arms and kissed her until she was gasping for breath.
“We’ll do fast another day,” he told her. He ripped the packet open. “And for the record, there is nothing wrong with my technique.”
“You can’t see me,” she said. “But I’m rolling my eyes here.”
With a smile, Lake kissed her again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bright sunlight flooded Kirsty’s bedroom and tugged her out of a deep sleep. She stretched languorously across her bed and stopped dead at a wall of muscle. Lake was still there and it was morning. Daylight. There was nowhere to hide. He was lying on his back, stark naked, with one arm hanging off the bed. Even in his sleep he made her mouth water. She was of half a mind to wake him and tell him his technique was rusty again—that seemed to get good results—but it was too bright in the room. He would see her. All of her. Instead she crept out of bed and slipped into her green satin dressing gown. She pulled it tight around her, aware that it was stupid to be this self-conscious with a man who knew her body intimately. By touch if not by sight.
“Lake,” she said as she prodded his side. “Lake.”
Unable to stop herself, the prod turned into a caress over the ridges in his stomach. She sighed. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back into bed. Kirsty squealed as Lake wrapped an arm around her and held her tight.
“I’m not ready to get out of bed,” he told her.
His voice was gruff with sleep. It was cute.
“I told you last night that you had to leave before sunrise,” she complained.
“And I ignored you.”
“But...” she started to explain.