Page 13 of Mistletoe Mischief

“Oh, baby,” Roger sighed, turning her fully to face him. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tight. Their thighs wrapped around each other and her arms went around his middle to hold him tight.

In this instance, he felt like he needed to reassure her, but he was getting as much out of the intimacy as she was.

“I love it that you turn to me this way,” he whispered. “But I feel guilty because you feel so good.”

She sputtered out a laugh. “I’m glad to see at least part of you is typical man.”

Leaning down, he kissed her slowly, deeply.

“Can I spend the morning in your bed, Cassandra Jones? And maybe the rest of the century?”

Her eyes widened and she clamped her lips shut as if she couldn’t contain her joy, then nodded emphatically. As he pulled her into his arms he felt the tears on his shoulder.

* * *

Cassandra edgedoff the bed and padded to the bathroom. Though she kind of hated to do it, she took a shower. It seemed wrong to wash Roger’s mark from her body.

But as she did wash she realized how good she felt. Frowning thoughtfully, she ran the soap over her breasts.

Her body felt fantastic, but it was more than that. She felt … lighter in her own skin. Some people would laugh at that and run their gazes over her big, beautiful bod, but she had a feeling Roger wouldn’t. He would look into her eyes and smile that perfect male model smile of his. Then tell her how she was his moon.Hismoon. God, that was romantic. Even her jaded ass could admit that.

When she tiptoed into the room, Roger still seemed to be asleep. She crept to her dresser and dug out panties and a bra, then a fresh T-shirt and sleep pants with Dachshunds dancing across the fabric. Roger had closed the drapes when he’d come back to bed, and there was just enough light seeping around the edges to see.

“You are such a beautiful woman,” his deep voice rumbled from the darkness. “I know I keep saying it but every time I see you I’m hit with it again.”

Cass turned, searching out his form. He’d sat up on the mattress, sheets pooling into folds at his lap. His abs were tight as he arched into a bone-popping stretch, both arms over his head. If Roger were any other man she would think he was posing for her.

But when his gaze connected with hers again, he gave her a little sheepish smile. “I slept really good with you.”

“I did too,” she told him softly.

And it was the truth. She’d had relationships over the years, but she’d never actuallysleptwith a man. That spoke to a trust that she just didn’t have; too many of the men she’d known were just aggressive males. But it hadn’t even occurred to her to leave the man in her bed last night. She knew Roger had her back, she could trust him to have her back, that was a new feeling for her.

She crossed to the bed and sat down next to him. Immediately, his hand lifted to caress her cheek and he leaned in to give her a good morning kiss. And it wasn’t just a peck. It was a‘good morning you luscious, beautiful woman, I want to fuck you’kiss.

Cass was totally okay with that. As her nipples puckered and her body began to warm, she reached out to touch him. Muscles bulged beneath her fingers, and at his sides the skin quivered, obviously ticklish. She let her fingernails run over the spot a couple of times.

When he pulled away from her mouth, he was grinning. “You’re asking for trouble,” he warned.

That damn inner devil of hers demanded that she push his limits. Running her fingers over the spot again, a little harder, she quirked a brow at him in a dare.

With a movement quicker than she could follow, he had spun her around till she was face down on the mattress. She felt his fingers in her own sides and she gasped. “Oh, don’t you dare!Roger!”

In her own bravado, she’d forgotten how very ticklish she was. Roger laid on top of her, full length, his hands beneath her arm pits. Cass gasped and wiggled, but that only made Roger’s fingers move into her skin. She stilled, quivering, laughing.

“I’m not moving,” he told her softly, kissing her at the nape of her neck. “I’m just exploring, like you were, right?”

“Right,” she gasped, trying not to break into giggles.

Roger’s hands glided down her sides, and she was surprised that she could barely tell the difference between his two hands. They moved exactly the same, the only difference was, the prosthetic skin caught on the fabric of her T, dragging it a little.

Then she lost her train of thought because he tugged the T-shirt up her back.

Cass tried not to wince in embarrassment, but it was really hard. Her weight had been an issue for such a long time. She’d taught herself over the years to be carefree, like it didn’t hurt at all what people said or did. But in times like these, when her body was under such intense scrutiny, all those insecurities flooded back. Yes, in the past couple of years she’d learned to eat better and exercise more, but the weight she’d lost didn’t seem to matter right this second.

Roger ran a finger down the center of her spine, brushing the shirt up and out of his way. Then his hand swept out to cup her side, in almost the same area she’d been tickling him.

Her skin crept away from his touch, quivering, and he chuckled deeply as she squirmed beneath his weight. “Oh, baby, you are just a wonder. I think you’re as ticklish as I am right here. That wasn’t very smart, daring me, was it? It left you very vulnerable.”

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