Which should give Jeffrey and I plenty of time to honeymoon this spring.
“Elizabeth,” he says in a scandalized voice. “You aren’t wearing panties.”
I gasp in mock horror. “Oh, no! Did I forget again?”
“You did,” he says. “And you know what that means…”
“You’ll have to ravage me again?” I grin up at him as he hooks his fingers in the top of my shorts.
“Indeed. If there were another layer to take off, maybe not, but when you make it so easy…” He drags the satin down my hips to my thighs. “How am I supposed to resist?”
“You’re not,” I whisper, and then I remind him why.
Nearly an hour later, I nod off, still smiling, drunk on love and sex and all the endless possibilities waiting to be explored.
With this man, the prince of my panties and my soul and my heart, from now until the very end.