Page 45 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

He squeezed her hand. “Oh my god.”

She flicked her gaze up to his. “Really?”

He knew what she was asking. He had a reputation, and people expected him to be blasé about sex. He’d done it with dozens of women. But it had never meant anything. Not until tonight, with Mary.

“Really. You’ve bewitched me, Mary Forza.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

He dismounted from her thighs and rearranged her legs more comfortably. Then, bending forward, he kissed her lips. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s a very good thing. Hold on, I’ll get a towel.”

He strode to the bathroom to snag a fluffy towel. He kissed each part of her after wiping it clean. Left breast. Right breast. The curve of her belly. The warmth between her legs. And finally, her smiling lips.

When he returned from tossing the towel into the hamper and washing his hands, she was curled on her side, breathing deeply. He hesitated for a moment. He could leave her here in peace and return to the bedroom where he’d put his bag. They could each get a decent night’s sleep alone, like they were both used to doing.

Or he could give in to the temptation of touching her skin all night.

He slipped into the bed behind her and tugged the sheet up over them.

So what if he never cuddled anyone after sex? He’d told her this was different. There was a first time for everything.

ChapterEighteen

Mary woke, her muscles loose and languid. She pointed her toes under the soft sheets, then reached up to touch the headboard for a stretch.

“Morning, beautiful,” Alex rumbled.

He lay with his arms folded under his head, smiling smugly at the ceiling. He was gorgeous, even with his hair rumpled and a crease across his cheek from the pillow.

From the curl that stubbornly poked into her peripheral vision, she suspected she looked anything but beautiful. She hadn’t thought to bundle her hair into a scarf or even a ponytail on top of her head.

“I’m not the expert here, but doesn’t the sweet-talking usually happen before the sex?”

He rolled toward her. “Who says we’re not about to have sex?”

Morning sex? She hadn’t done that in a while. How was her breath? She lifted the sheet up over her mouth.

“Okay.” He chuckled. “Maybe not yet. How are you feeling?”

“Mmm. Well rested is the term people use, I think?”

Faster than she’d have thought possible, his arm was around her, and he nuzzled her neck. “Or is it well fucked?”

She laid her hands on the back of his head and held him there, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her skin. “Definitely both.”

“What do you say to a walk on the beach before breakfast?” His voice came from below her shoulder.

“I think if you keep going, we’re not going to make it to the beach before lunchtime.”

“Ah, but you see, I’ve got it all planned out.” He sat up. “Walk, breakfast, shower sex, nap?—”

“Wait. Did you just list shower sex?”

Playfully, he raised an eyebrow. “Did you just interrupt my itinerary?”

She squeezed her thighs together. “Sorry.”

“While you’re napping, I’ll work for an hour or so. Then we’ll drive to the boardwalk for lunch, perhaps some shopping if you’re into it. We’ll come back here, where I’ll ravish you again, probably in that chair over there”—he tipped his chin at a leather armchair she hadn’t noticed last night—“and by then it’ll be time for drinks on the deck before the chef comes to make us dinner.”

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