Free Naked Truth (Crimson Romance) by Tami Lund Page B

surprised by that. Maybe because of the way he’d shown up, in the middle of the night, acting as if he’d needed to couple with her in order to go on living. It had been so damn arousing, she’d had an orgasm almost the instant he’d entered her, yet she’d still half expected he would wake up and slip out during the pre-dawn hours.
    But he hadn’t. And now she wondered what that meant. Would he expect her to cook breakfast? Would he be interested in morning sex? She certainly was. Having that handsome, sexy body lying next to her, taking up far too much space on her ancient, queen-sized bed, giving off enough body heat that she didn’t even need the thin sheet and blanket—how could a woman possibly resist?
    She didn’t know, though, what he was thinking, or how he would react, or even when he might wake up, so she did nothing, except continued to lay there and marvel at what happened the night before.
    Seeing him at that club, dancing up there on the stage, had been shocking enough. Watching him leap off the stage and let Vanessa pull him into her arms had had her seeing green with envy. Until he’d rubbed that fabulous erection against her own backside. Whispering about how he wanted to fuck her. He’d certainly put action to words earlier this morning.
    Oh Lord, had he.
    She heard a groan and twisted her head to watch as Jack gradually came awake. He rolled onto his back and stretched, and then he winced as he blinked open his liquid-brown eyes. “I feel like I got run over by a Mack truck,” he muttered. “Shit.”
    Kennedy hesitated. Of all the scenarios sifting through her head, that comment had not been one of them. “Er, would you like some ibuprofen?”
    “Yeah, in a minute.” He glanced at her. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”
    “For what?”
    He looked down at himself. The used condom still hung from his rapidly swelling erection. He plucked a tissue from the box on the bedside table, and used it to dispose of the evidence.
    “Shit, Kennedy, I didn’t mean to … to use you like that. I don’t know what the hell came over me.”
    “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
    He scowled and sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover his lap as he dropped his head into his hands. “No, it’s not okay. Jesus, I can’t believe I fucking showed up here in the middle of the night, screwed you for like ten seconds, and then passed out. I feel like such a dick.”
    She reached over and touched his arm. “It was more like three minutes,” she assured him with laughter in her voice. “And you asked my permission at least half a dozen times first.”
    “But still …”
    She let her hand rest on his arm. “You can make it up to me now, if you’d like.”
    He stared at her hand, and then lifted his eyes to stare at her face. “How?”
    She smiled, thinking how silly he was to be so worried. “Do you ever stick around for morning sex, when you’re with … other women?” she asked shyly.
    She felt him tense beside her. Had she overstepped some invisible boundary, that he would prefer to simply rush from her bed and get as far away from her as possible, as quickly as possible?
    His arm slipped around her waist, and then she was flat on her back with Jack looming over her, holding himself up with his elbows. “Not often enough,” he said, and he bent his head and kissed her.
    She squirmed underneath him. He lifted his head and flipped her over onto her stomach. She sucked in a breath and held it as he covered her with his body.
    “Can I do this?” he asked, and she felt a hand between her legs, felt his fingers slide up her inner thigh, slick through the wetness there. She spread her legs wider and gasped.
    “Yes,” she assured him, and she arched as he pressed two fingers into her, pumping, mimicking the act of sex while he rolled his hips and rubbed his erection against her backside. She felt his lips on her back, nibbling on her shoulder blade, his teeth tugging on her ear. She