‘Bossy,’ she murmured. ‘I would never have thought you’d be so bossy in bed.’ She must have liked it, however, because she was soon gazing up at him, watching his eyes darken like the fading light through the curtained windows.
‘You don’t like it?’
She smiled. ‘Didn’t say that, did I?’
He gave a low, breathy laugh as he lowered his head to her nipple and sucked.
Sophie cried out, arching, heat building rapidly inside her. Mike spread her wider, deepening his thrusts, but keeping the same maddening pace. Sophie writhed beneath him,gasping his name, trying to get what she wanted – she was soclose.
‘What do you need?’
‘Faster.’ She practically sobbed the word. ‘And touch me. I need – I need you to touch me.’ She knew she was being vague, but her thoughts were jumbled, and she wasn’t used to asking for what she wanted. Worse, she wasn’t used to anyone giving a damn.
Mike seemed to understand, shifting so he was on his knees, placing his thumb over her clit and rubbing in circles as he thrust into her.
Sophie fractured into a thousand glittering pieces as pleasure shot through her, only to dissipate slowly, leaving her a puddle of sated human. Mike followed soon after, his body caging hers, and her name upon his lips. He collapsed on her when he was done, chest heaving like a bellows, his body deliciously heavy on hers. She had little energy left but found enough to stroke his back as she held him.
Then, surprisingly, his chest started to shake.
Oh no. Oh god. Was hecrying?She really hoped he wasn’t, not because she had an issue with men crying, but her ego couldn’t take it at this particular moment and – no, wait. He was wheezing.
‘Are youlaughing?’
He nodded, his face buried in her shoulder.
‘Why?’ Was laughing worse than crying? She supposed it depended on what he was laughing about.
‘I was thinking’ – he wheezed another laugh – ‘about when we met.’
Sophie couldn’t figure out the connection. ‘Okay . . .’
‘Even monkeys in the trees do it.’ That sent him into another paroxysm of laughter.
‘That’swhy you’re laughing?’ She smacked him playfully on the back. ‘It wasn’t even funny when I said it!’
‘Yes, it was.’ He leaned back to look at her. ‘It’s even funnier now.’
‘Why, exactly?’
‘I don’t know.’ He started shaking again with a fresh wave of laughter. ‘It just is.’
‘You’re ridiculous.’
‘I know,’ he said, tucking his face into the space where her neck and shoulder met.‘But I hope you like it.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I guess I do.’ Then she couldn’t help it. She started laughing right along with him.
Chapter Twenty-One
They slept for an hour or so after the laughing fit, then they woke up to make love again. After that, they were rightfully starving and Mike pulled on a pair of joggers to raid the kitchen. He brought back the fruit and cheese plate, along with sandwiches he’d made out of the cold chicken, and one of the bottles of wine. Neither of them could be bothered to reheat the actual meal.
They ate it in bed with their fingers, Sophie wearing one of his shirts, her hair sticking up at wild angles. He was afraid to look in a mirror. He probably didn’t look any better. For once, though, he wasn’t concerned about getting anything on the sheets while he ate.
Sophie took a big bite of her sandwich, a napkin spread over her lap, which Mike thought was pretty funny since she wasn’t actually wearing any clothes. ‘This chicken is really good.’
Mike lounged on the bed, slicing the Brie one-handed. ‘I did have an actual dinner planned. A whole date, even.’
‘So, what did I miss?’
