“Mmm-hmm.” He turned over, sadly hiding her view of his tush. One eye peeled open. “There was this pretty lady in my bed. Don’t know why she can’t stay put.” He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, then his nose twitched. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“It is. What would you do to that pretty lady if she was still in bed with you when you woke up?” If her time with him was limited, and it was, she wanted every minute with him she could get.
“The answer to that question is best shown, not told.” He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down next to him. He kissed her, then chuckled. “How many pickles did you and Everly eat this morning?”
“Can’t get nothing past you, Chief. Do I have pickle breath?”
“Uh-huh. Have I told you how much I love pickle breath?”
“I believe you’ve been remiss in sharing that.”
“How neglectful of me.” He slipped his hand under her sleep shirt and cupped a breast. “Mmm, look what I found.”
She never knew what to expect from him in bed. Sometimes it was what he called sweet lovin’, and when he made love to her like that, it was dreamy. Sometimes he liked it a little on the rough side, and he’d warn her it was going to be hard and fast. She loved it like that because it felt like she had the power to make him a little crazy with needing her. Then there was his playful side, and it seemed that was what she was getting this morning.
“If you look hard enough, you might discover a second one.” Sex had always been a serious act, never a fun one, and it turned out laughing and sex went great together. Who knew?
He scooted down a little, then pushed his head under her top. “By God, you’re right! There is another one.” He rubbed his face over the newly found breast.
She giggled. “Your scruff tickles.” When he sucked the nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, she moaned.
“Killing me, Sheriff, with those noises you make.”
Because she liked killing him, she moaned again. He answered with a growl.
“I wonder what other treasures I might find if I look hard enough.” He trailed his tongue down the middle of her stomach, into her bellybutton, then to the waistband of her silk lounge pants. “What have we here? A magic gate guarding the treasure?” He hooked a finger under the elastic and let it snap back into place.
“Yes. You have to know the secret words to open the gate.” She loved his playful mood.
When it was hot and heavy between them, her blood sizzled, and her sex throbbed with need. When he was of a sweet lovin’ mind, she would close her eyes and float away on a fluffy white cloud while her body was worshiped by this man. He made her feel cherished. This playful side of him gave her laughter and oh so good feels.
“I know the magic words. Ready?”
“Yes. So ready.”
He chuckled. “All right, here they are. I’m going to make you come so hard that you’re going to forget your name. Stars are going to dance in front of your eyes and—” he slipped a hand inside her pants and a finger through her folds “—you’re going to drench my tongue with your delicious juices.”
“Ohhhh.” She lifted her bottom. “That’s them. The magic words. Take my pants off!” He face-planted on her stomach and laughed so hard that his shoulders shook. “Whaaaat? Why aren’t you taking my pants off?”
He laughed harder, and apparently it was true. Laughter really was contagious. Tickling bubbles erupted in her stomach and made their way out her mouth, first in a snort, which tickled even more, and then she was gasping for breath along with him.
I would love a lifetime of this with him. The stray thought dropped into her mind like an exploding bomb that changed the course of one’s life. She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t wish for it. Their laughter died off, and she was glad for that. Sex with him was just that. Sex. Nothing more, and she didn’t need to learn that she could love a man who made her laugh.
“What was that all about?” She didn’t even know what she was asking, but she felt like she was walking a tightrope without a safety net, and she didn’t know how to balance herself.
“Can I get back to you on that?” He lifted his head and grinned at her. “I have more important things to do first.”
As she stared down her stomach and into his eyes that were somehow still laughing yet filled with heat, another bomb dropped. I love him. No! No, she did not love him. Liked him a lot, yes. Respected him, yes. Trusted him, yes. But she could not love him.
“Skye?”
There he went, being him again. Calling her by the name she’d grown up with—the one that only the people special to her used—refusing to call her Skylar like everyone else here did. She knew why. Because his doing that was a constant reminder that they’d clicked from the beginning in a way neither had expected or experienced before. She should have told him her name was Skylar the night they’d met.
“Yes?”
He moved up until his face was next to hers. “You’re clicking off all the reasons in your mind why you shouldn’t like being with me. Please don’t do that.”
She pretended not to know what he meant, but how did he know her so well? “Did you forget you said the magic words to get into my pants?” She closed her eyes against his sad smile. How did they go from laughing to her wanting to cry?