Page 58 of Snow Bound

She really loved endorphins.

“Okay, time to sit up.”

“Why?” she murmured and tried to burrow in closer. “I’m comfortable here.”

He nudged her back. “You need some water. Come on, see if you can extend that good girl streak and do as you’re told.”

She grumbled but obeyed, pushing to a seated position and taking the bottle of water he held out.

He took the bottle when she’d finished and set it on the nightstand. “Better?”

She nodded. “Better.” She settled back against the pillows—he must have retrieved them from the floor—and sighed. “I know it’s the middle of the day, and I’m not really sleepy. But I don’t want to move.”

“How about a movie, then I’ll hunt up some lunch?”

“Wouldn’t I have to move for that?”

“Minimally,” he replied, climbing out of bed to reach for his pants.

Anna watched with dreamy interest. She’d seen him naked, of course, a couple of times now. But it didn’t get old.

He glanced back, jeans halfway over his ass and a smile in his eyes. “You’re staring.”

“You have a really pretty penis,” she murmured, then blinked. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”

He laughed and hitched up his jeans, buttoned all but the top button. “You did.”

“Well, it’s true.” She eyed the crotch of his jeans, hiding the pretty. The thick pretty, she recalled. “But I might want to make my yes on anal sex a maybe. What are you doing?”

He scooped her up. “You said you didn’t want to move, so I’m moving you.”

She linked her arms around his neck, pleasure a warm glow in her chest. “Oh. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She eyed him curiously as they left the bedroom. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How come you aren’t making me call you something?”

One eyebrow quirked up. “Something?”

“You know. Sir, or Master, something like that.”

He started down the stairs. “You did call me Sir. Several times, if I recall correctly.”

She frowned. “In the heat of the moment, yeah. But you didn’t make it a rule.”

“No, I didn’t.” He descended the last stair, stepped over a snoring Henry, and crossed to the couch. “Did you want me to?”

“No.” She didn’t think. “But I kind of expected you to.”

He settled her on the cushion. “I like when you call me Sir. I like it best when it’s in the heat of the moment.”

She didn’t know what to make of that. “Oh.”

He picked up the blanket he’d discarded earlier and spread it over her lap. “How about some popcorn?”

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