Page 62 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

My gaze was drawn to the bed like it was a black hole. “If you want.”

“I’m not tired.” Her tone seemed to be a warning.

I barreled right through the caution tape. “Me neither.”

“Good.” Her lips quirked up at the sides. “Give me a minute.” She went into the attached bathroom.

I used the bathroom in the hall. There was some toothpaste in the drawer, but I didn’t presume to use the toothbrush that was still in its package. Instead, I used my finger, then I rinsed my fingers and ran them through my hair to get it out of my eyes. I needed a haircut.

Back in her bedroom, I straightened the covers, then pulled them back on her side. No, she’d asked me to stay. I folded back the sheets on the other side too. Like in Vegas, the bed was big enough for both of us.

The bathroom door opened, and she emerged wearing a soft-looking bathrobe in dark gray. I swallowed.

She tipped her head to the side. “You’re still wearing clothes. Were you serious about wanting to play a board game?”

“Um…not really?” I could think of a lot of things I wanted to do with her, and none of them involved dice.

“Are you one of those guys who’s icked out by period sex?”

“God, no.” As if to prove the point, my dick pressed against my zipper.

She set her fingers on the tie of her robe. “Then why are you still dressed?”

I looked down at myself, surprised my clothes hadn’t spontaneously combusted. I shucked off my trousers, wincing when I rediscovered the rip in the seam. They tangled at my ankles.

Shit, I’d forgotten to take off my shoes.

I sat awkwardly on the bed to wrestle them off. When my legs were free, I unbuttoned my shirt. My fingers shook, so it took longer than it should’ve. I left my boxers on, but they didn’t hide my erection at all.

I stepped closer to her and traced one lapel of her robe. “Can I?”

She nodded.

I untied the belt, then pushed the robe off her shoulders. She was naked underneath, and I took a minute to enjoy the glorious view of her freckled skin. They covered her body, denser on her arms and lower legs, lighter over her breasts and stomach. My breath quickened as I ran my hand down the smooth skin of her arm, like I’d been dying to do for months.

Her touch feather-light, she caressed from my shoulder to the top of my right pec. “You’re hairier than I thought you’d be.”

I furrowed my brows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” She swirled a finger into the hair over my breastbone. “It’s an observation. I like it.”

“I love your body.” Her breasts were on the smaller side, a perfect fit for my palms. I traced a line from her shoulder to her nipple, then circled the areola with my fingertip. “Good?”

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes.

“Does your endometriosis give you pain with sex?”

“Someone’s done his research.”

Her breath hitched when I gave her nipple a gentle pinch. “It’s an important question.”

“Not usually. Only if it’s particularly rough.”

“And you’ll let me know if you feel any pain?”

She pressed her breast into my hand. “Yes. Promise.”

I lowered my mouth to her breast and licked the reddened tip. Then I closed my lips around it and sucked. Her warm skin tasted earthy with a barely-there tang of something fresh and herbal. I opened my mouth wider to take in more of her. She clasped my head and held it to her, so I kept going, licking and sucking one breast while my fingers plucked at the other nipple. She responded with a moan, her chest heaving.

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