Minding Their Manners

Tucking in her camisole Friday morning, Alice whistled in appreciation of the view. “Shake it, stud.”

“How’s this?” Jay, drying off after his shower, bent and waggled his ass toward her as he speedily swept the towel back and forth. His robe lay abandoned across the foot of the bed. “Tips welcome.”

“Oh, definitely turn a little to your left, then. You’re hiding—”

Fingers landed at her waist, deftly slipping fabric into her work slacks. “Allow me.”

“—the goods.” She dropped her hands and reached for the thighs behind her. Henry, fresh from the walk-in closet, had clothed his skin in lightweight summer linen. Soft, but not the same as the naked tangle of their legs this morning before necessity forced them all out of bed. Tipping her head back on Henry’s shoulder gave her an excellent vantage point for watching Jay wriggle into biking shorts. At least he’d obeyed her request to turn around. “Nice work, loverboy.”

“I do hope”—Henry delivered a kiss behind her ear, his breath heated and his teeth a faint scrape against her skin—“that sobriquet wasn’t for me.”

“No.” She shook out the shiver he’d raised to the surface. Nothing boyish about Henry. Too young to call him a silver fox, though. Few nicknames carried the seriousness—the gravitas—he deserved. She angled her neck in the hopes of enticing more attention. “Though you do nice work, too.”

“Only nice?” He clicked his tongue as he draped her top layer over her shoulders. “How far the mighty have fallen. We shall endeavor to reach loftier heights tomorrow night.”

There went that damn shiver again. “Down to thirty-six hours.”

“Lovely of you to keep the count, my sweet girl. Such good practice.”

A mini-implosion pulled her awareness down to a tiny patch of real estate between her legs thumping with heat. Counting meant impact play. Spanking. Flogging. The incomprehensible paradox of complete muscle relaxation and simultaneous sexual tension flowing through every last inch of her body.

“I see that meets with your approval.” His light tease plucked her free of the slippery slope into daydreaming.

“Yes, sir.” A whisper, hardly enunciated, but so satisfying when his inhale came quick and short.

“Minx. No time for that now.” He pinched her chin in his fingers and unleashed a harsh, demanding kiss on her mouth, leaving her lips tingling. “Thirty-six hours. Now go and fetch our guest for breakfast.”

“Going. I’m going.” Once her legs worked again. She crooked a finger at Jay, who’d gotten half-dressed before he stopped to watch them.

Short-sleeve tee in his hands, he trotted over. Dark, eager pupils nearly erased the warm brown depths of his eyes.

“Better tip.” She kissed his cheeks and palmed the firm wall of his abs, adding a hint of nails when he chased the pressure of her touch. “Let Henry help you with your top. He did wonders for mine.”