Page 70 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

He suddenly scoops me in his arms and rolls us, trapping me beneath him. “Good morning, princess,” he murmurs, kissing me deeply, his body hard against me.

Very hard.

I sigh happily, flooded with sense memory as my legs move automatically around his waist, and his hands tangle in my hair, and our bodies arch hot together in a slow, filthy morning kiss.

Hello.

The kiss deepens. I know I need to brush my teeth, and my hair must be a disaster zone after that late-night swim, but Duke doesn’t seem to mind, and so neither do I. I just revel in the heat of his body, and the slow, delicious grind of his cock against me, sending shivers of friction against my clit even through the fabric of my pajama shorts.

I pull away, beaming. Never mind coffee, all I need is Duke in the morning, and I can snap awake just fine.

I slide out of bed. “Where are you going?” Duke protests lazily. “I wasn’t done with you yet.”

“That’s right,” I smirk, shooting a look over my shoulder as I duck into the tiny bathroom, and turn the shower on. “You promised me six orgasms, and we only got to… five.”

“Nonsense.” Duke’s voice carries. “There were definitely six.”

“Liar!” I call cheerfully. When I poke my head back in the bedroom, Duke is out of bed, stretching. I’m distracted by his naked body all over again.

“I’ll have you know, I take my commitments seriously,” he scolds me playfully.

He reaches for me, but I dance back, flirty. “So, maybe a couple of them ran together…”

Duke grins. “If you can’t remember, then clearly I need to make things more memorable.”

He kisses me again, stripping off my cotton PJ set until I’m just as naked as him, and steering me back into brightly-patterned tile shower. It’s delicious, reveling in the flow of hot water and slide of bare skin as we lather each other up, hands roaming everywhere to touch and tease.

“Whoever listed this as a two-person shower never met you,” I laugh, crowded up against the wall by all of Duke’s muscle, with barely any space to move.

“Sure it is,” Duke smirks. “You just need to get creative.”

He spins me to face the tile, my palms flat and my body arched as he palms my breasts into stiff, aching peaks. “See?” His breath is hot against my ear, and my head falls back against his chest. “Plenty of room.”

His hands slide lower, lazily dipping between my thighs to stroke and circle my clit. His cock digs into the crease of my ass, and I wriggle back against him, loving the huff of breath he snatches as I move.

“Wait, are those… peaches?” Duke pauses to squint at the tile on the shower wall, just a few inches from his face.

“And eggplant,” I grin, twisting back to face him. “Cherries, too. We’re right on theme.”

I close my fist around his straining cock. Duke huffs a strangled laugh, as I slowly start to pump. “That woman sure has a sense of humor.”

“It’s like they say,” I laugh, “Art is supposed to be inspiring.”

And then I slide to my knees, and show him just how inspired I’m feeling.

We stay in the shower until the water runs cold, and there’s absolutely no doubt how many orgasms Duke has delivered. Then we dry off, and head into town, stopping by Duke’s place first for a quick change of his clothes.

“Don’t you need to get to work?” I ask, as we arrive at the diner.

“A late start won’t be the end of the world,” he replies, holding the door open for me. “Believe me, the guys are happy to take a break.”

“Why? Are you a tyrant of a boss?” I tease.

He gives me a smoldering grin. “I thought you liked it when I give orders.”

Oh, I do.

I blush, then check around to see if anyone’s noticed. But nobody turns their heads to look our way, not even as Duke calls out our order to the waitress and slings an arm around my shoulder to steer me a booth in the back.

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