“What does Valerie have to do with this?”

“She’s skinny, and I’m a little— I’m fat!”

“Man-oh-man. I’m giving up on women. I’m definitely giving up.” As he grumbled, he began to caress her hips, and the skin at her temples tingled from the soft motion of his lips. “I know lots of women feel insecure about their bodies, and I know I should be sweet and understanding about this. But, Phoebe, honey, having you worry about being too fat is pretty much like having a billionaire worry about his money being too green.”

“You were looking at me.”

“You’ve got me there, but I’ve learned my lesson. From now on, I’m gonna shut my eyes.” He lifted both her breasts in his palms, bent his head, and found the left nipple with his mouth. As he suckled her, liquid threads of pleasure, hot and tingling, spread through her. Her insecurities faded as she clung to his shoulders and offered herself up to him.

She didn’t know how they got to the bed or what happened to her shoes, only that he was laying her on the soft, patterned blanket. She watched as he took off the rest of his clothes and came to lie beside her.

“I still have my stockings on.”

“I know.” He ran his hands over the sheer, black nylon and up to the soft, unprotected skin of her inner thigh, and she could see that the stockings excited him.

“Spread your legs for me, honey.”

She did as he asked.

“Farther,” he urged. “Pull up your knees.”

She did that, too.

“You’re looking again.” She gazed down at the top of his head.

“And you’re just as pretty here as you are everywhere else.”

She could barely breathe as he did a moist tracing of her with the tip of his index finger. Taking his time. Looking his fill. Sometimes pressing his lips to the insides of her thighs. Murmuring little nonsense syllables against her skin.

His finger grew slippery as it pushed up a little and then withdrew, going round and round on its slow forever mission. She gasped for breath, taking short, quick pants. Her body was no longer part of the room, no longer lying on the bed, but spiraling toward some hot wet land.

He bent his head and took her with his mouth. She lost herself in pleasure. Then she felt not one finger, but two. Sliding. Pumping.

She knew he was watching her. Heard him praise her passion. “That’s good, baby. So good. Let it go. Let it go, sweetheart.”

“No,” she gasped, barely able to speak. “No. I want you.”

His fingers went deeper. “Do you, baby? Do you?”

“Yes, I . . .”

Her eyes flew open. Those fingers! They were everywhere. He knew no shame.

He laughed a devil’s laugh, earthy and lusty. “Relax, baby. Relax and let me feel you.”

She moaned and let him do what he wanted because nothing on earth could have made her tell him to stop, not even when he took her nipple in his mouth, suckled hard, and hurled her over the mountaintop.