Page 17 of Sexpresso Night

Chapter Four

Danya snuggled against Carter, his arms around her, so utterly at peace, so satisfied, so complete, it almost brought tears to her eyes.

Sunday morning curled up in bed with a man who had just given her everything she wanted was heart-meltingly perfect. Well okay, it wasn’t possible to give her everything she wanted in one night, but hell, he’d come close.

The softness of his sheets settled over her sensitized skin, his hair-roughened legs rubbed against hers, his hands warm and heavy and secure on her body, and she sank into a cocoon of sensual bliss. She listened to his heart thudding beneath her cheek then finally spoke. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Yeah. Don’t you have to meet your friends?”

She lifted her head sharply. “Oh my god! What time is it?”

He laughed and pushed her head back to his chest with a firm touch. “Relax. It’s only ten-thirty.”

“But what time does your shop open?”

“Eight. Someone else is opening today.”

She blew out a breath.

“What time do you meet your friends?”

“Usually around one. I should text Marina…”

He rolled out of bed and strolled naked out of the room. Her eyes followed him, admiring the smooth sweep of muscle over hard-edged bone, the ridges and dips and the strength they contained, the power of his body like a force-field around him. He returned carrying her purse, and the small leather bag in his large masculine hands only emphasized his potent maleness and commanding presence.

With quirked lips, he handed her the purse and she sat up, shoving her hair back. “Thank you.” His consideration touched her, and for a moment her hands paused on the purse. Why? Why did this considerate gesture make her feel cared for instead of annoyed? The corners of her eyes tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him and blinked. “Nothing.” With a small shake of her head, she set that thought away to examine later, and dug into the purse for her cell phone. When she swiped it to unlock it there was already a text from Marina, saying they’d meet at one.

She tapped in her response and sent it off.

“You can come with me.” He plucked the phone from her hand and stuffed it into the purse, which he then dropped over the side of the bed. “I mean, come to the shop with me.”

She laughed.

“And there’s lots of time for us to have a shower,” he murmured.

Excitement shivered through her. “Oh.”

He took hold of her wrists and gently tugged, backing off the bed and pulling her with him.

She didn’t resist, drawn by the heat in his eyes, the wicked curve of his mouth. The beard shading his jaw gave him a dangerous, dark edge. The round muscles of his shoulders and arms bulged as he pulled her, his chest wide and smooth, abs ridged and powerful.

She almost choked, her hunger and yearning so great inside her that she was unable to say a word. When she was on her feet, the rug soft beneath her soles, he stared down at her, still clasping her wrists.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice raspy-rough.

Liquid heat surged inside her, spilled onto her thighs, and she swayed as her knees went soft. He caught her, lifted her, and carried her to the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom.

He set her down near the toilet and turned away to start the water.

“Go ahead and use the toilet if you need to.”

What? She stared at his back, gleaming bronze skin over sculpted muscles, and gulped.

No. She couldn’t. Not with him there.

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