Kit pulled on her nightgown on and walked out. “The counselor suggested I talk to my body—and compliment it.” She bounced her breasts in her hands. “These are my pretties.”

“Pretties?” Hawk was sitting on the bed, shirt off, still in jeans. His gaze lingered on her breasts, and his smile was slow and very masculine. “I’d agree with that.”

She could see the heat in his eyes as he looked at her. It seemed he liked her nightgown. His gaze slid down. “Any other names?”

Darn it, did he have to ask that? Her face felt hot. “Peach. I hate the word pussy.”

He grinned, the jerk. She’d heard someone in town say he didn’t have a sense of humor. So wrong.

As she slid under the covers, he started to unzip his jeans. The zipper must have been old and made an almost grinding sound as if the gate, no—the prison door—was complaining about being opened?

Oh heavens, when she was nervous, her thoughts became bizarre.

But she knew what lay behind that prison door. She clapped her hands over her mouth to smother a snicker.

Halting, he studied her, obviously worried that she was nervous. “Stop?”

“No.” She felt her shoulders start to shake. Don’t laugh.

“Kit.” The low growl held a warning. “Talk to me.”

“Just thinking…your zipper sounded, um, creaky. Like a prison door.”

He gave her an odd look as he finished unzipping. His shaft sprang out.

Sprang. Out.

“Oh, nooooo. The one-eyed dragon has escaped the dungeon. It’s loose.” Waving her hands in the air, she fell back on the bed.

Hawk stared. “Fuck me, I broke her.”

She was giggling so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.

Shaking his head—but he was grinning—he finished undressing and went into the living room. She heard him lock the door. He left the light on in there.

Back in the bedroom, he turned off the nightstand lamp.

By the time he finished she was sitting in the center of the bed, a lingering ache in her belly from laughing.

“You won’t need this.” He bent and pulled her nightgown off.

“Hey.” She frowned at the light streaming in from the living room.

“I like to look at you.” Hawk’s mouth tipped up. “And the pretties.”

Then he showed her how much he liked her pretties, using his mouth and fingers—and even his teeth. By the time he finished, her breasts were so swollen and her nipples so sensitive, even the slightest touch made her quiver.

Lying down beside her, he rolled onto his back. “Climb on.”

Oh, she could do that. But when she straddled his hips, he put his hands under her bottom and pulled her up, past his stomach, past his chest, until her most intimate parts were right over his face.