Free The Watson Brothers by Lori Foster Page A

gloats when she gets her own way.”
    “Sam!” The water quickly warmed, taking away her chills.
    He lathered her up, somehow always managing to keep a good hold on her soap-slick body. By the time he finished, Ariel was ready to learn about the new ways he’d mentioned. The night couldn’t be long enough to suit her.
     
    Sam awoke to a soft, damp kiss on his lower spine. His eyes snapped open but he didn’t move. He was on his stomach, his legs sprawled out, his body heavy with sleep.
    Deep shadows still filled the room, telling him it was early morning. His brain felt foggy, as if he’d been on a three-day drunk but with alarming clarity, he knew it was carnal gluttony that had him sluggish this morning, not booze.
    Ariel was amazing. Everything he’d ever wanted in a sex partner. Everything he’d ever wanted, period.
    He felt her warm fingertips tickling down his spine to the top of his ass. She hesitated, then stroked lower, until she found his testicles and could fondle him from behind. He bit back a rumbling groan.
    After the excesses of the night, he should have been dead to the world, unable to rise to the occasion. But this was Ariel—and he was rising rather quickly.
    “You’re awake,” she murmured, sounding more than a little pleased with herself.
    “I am now.” Sam rolled to his back and dragged her on top of him, appreciating her early morning, sleep-rumpled appeal. “Awake and ready, thanks to a certain little sexy lady who tried to molest me in my sleep.”
    She gave him a willing smile.
    Sam sighed. “Unfortunately we’re out of rubbers and I don’t take chances, so quit torturing me.”
    Her face fell. “Bummer.”
    “Yeah.” She sounded so forlorn, Sam almost laughed. “What time is it?”
    “Six.”
    Aware of numerous aches and pains, he stretched beneath her. Laughing, Ariel almost slid off him. She grabbed him tight and managed to hang on.
    Her giggle, which had once grated on his nerves, now seemed beyond adorable. “What time do you have to be at work?”
    “Ten.”
    He swatted her bare behind. “Let’s go get some breakfast, then. I’m famished.”
    He gently pushed her onto her back, gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth, and rolled out of bed. If he’d been alone, he would have limped to the dresser for his shorts because every muscle screamed in complaint as he moved. But with Ariel watching, he did his best to do the macho thing and hide his discomfort.
    She came to her knees in the middle of the bed. “My dress is ripped and I never got around to fixing it last night, so can I borrow a T-shirt?”
    He cast her a quick look. “Naw, I like seeing you naked.”
    Her face turned bright pink. “I can’t cook or eat breakfast naked.”
    “Sure you can.” He stepped into black boxer-briefs and hiked them up. “My house, my rules.”
    Her back stiffened. “Sam.”
    “Ariel.” She was so damn cute, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a spoilsport.”
    Her disheveled blond curls trembled in her agitation, forcing Sam to swallow a laugh. “All right, all right, don’t start fuming. You can have a shirt.” And then, just to tweak her anger, he added, “I suppose modesty in someone as young as you is to be expected.”
    He tossed her a white T-shirt, but it hit her in her glowering face, then fell to her lap. She didn’t even attempt to catch it.
    Sam leaned on the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying her. “Changed your mind?”
    Her chin lifted; she flipped the shirt to the floor. “I believe I have.” In lofty disdain, she slid out of the bed and strode naked to the door. “What’s a little nudity among adults?”
    Oh hell. Sam went after her, his gaze glued to her bare butt swishing and swaying down the stairs. He clutched his heart, thinking he was far too old to survive so much stimulation. He grinned at the thought, remembering that Ariel was the first one to fall asleep last night—and she’d had a fat smile on her