He shot her a look and sipped his own drink. “Lucky you.”
“Yeah.” She smirked. “Lucky me.”
He lounged back against her padded headboard, relaxed and amused. And naked, since she didn’t have a bathrobe big enough to fit him and he hadn’t wanted to climb into bed wrapped in a damp towel. Besides, as he’d pointed out, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it all.
And it was just as fine as she’d hoped it would be.
“You’re staring, sweetheart.”
A lazy sort of heat joined the amusement in his face, and she felt an answering clench deep within. Round two in the shower had taken most of the edge off, but apparently, she still had some gas left in the tank. Huh.
“Sorry,” she told him, not sorry at all.
“I don’t mind,” he said, “but if you get to look, then so should I.” He leaned forward and fisted a hand over the lapel of her robe. “Take this off.”
She thought briefly about making him take it off her, but figured that would just get them going again. And despite the low-grade of desire curling in her belly, her pussy was already a little sore. Big Dick Hastings had been a very accurate moniker.
She shrugged one shoulder, letting the thick terrycloth droop down over one arm before switching her drink to the other hand and doing the same on the other side. The robe slid down to pool around her waist, leaving her bare from the waist up.
She sipped her drink, warming to the appreciation in his gaze. “Better?”
“Mmm.” He reached out to trail his fingertips lightly over one breast. “Marked you up there a bit.”
She glanced down, watching his fingers trace over the beard burn that reddened her pale skin. “I don’t mind marks,” she told him, enjoying the way her nipple tightened at his touch.
“That’s good,” he said absently, his fingers skimming over the hardened nipple before moving to her other breast. “I would’ve asked, but we didn’t get around to negotiating.”
She smothered the sigh that wanted to escape. His hand on her skin was…well, lovely. Much more and she wouldn’t care how sore she was. “We did enough. Not like it was a scene.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, his hand still on her breast. “Wasn’t it?”
She shrugged. “A little, I guess. I was still pretty worked up from Saturday.”
“Ah.” He stretched out to set his drink on the bedside table before leaning forward and placing both hands on her breasts. “Topping gets you going.”
She leaned into his touch. “Well, yeah. It doesn’t work that way for you?”
“It does.” He turned his hands to cup her, lifting them slightly so her breasts plumped in his hands. “I just usually take it out on the person I’m topping.”
She laughed. “I don’t think Jamie was interested in me that way.”
“No,” he mused, brushing his thumbs over her nipples and smiling when they tightened even further. “But I kind of get the feeling even if he had been, you wouldn’t have.”
She shrugged, the motion lifting her breasts in his hands. “Topping ramps me up, but unfortunately, I’m not generally sexually attracted to bottoms.”
He frowned and lifted his gaze from her breasts. “How does that work?”
“A lot like this, actually. Top someone, then find someone else to fuck.”
“Scratching an itch, were you?”
He was regarding her with amusement, not offense, so she didn’t think the idea bothered him. Still, it wasn’t quite that simple. “Partly.”
“What was the other part?”
“I’m attracted to you. So, two birds, one stone.”
His eyebrows rose at her matter-of-fact tone. “You’re attracted to me?”