He noticed, too, as soon as his shudders slowed and his eyes refocused. “You’re crying. Oh, baby, why are you crying?”

She sniffled as she squeezed the small of his back, keeping him in her when he would have left. “Damn, I’m sorry. They’re good tears, honestly. I just can’t believe how happy I am.”

Damien relaxed again, his chest sinking toward hers. “I believe it. And I know how to appreciate it now.”

He pulled out of her, but now he arched a finger back and forth over her clitoris, which tingled with aftershocks. “I’d like to appreciate you all over again in a minute,” he said.

She smiled at him. “Can you appreciate it in the morning instead of now? I can’t keep my eyes open. The orgasms you give me seem to act like warm milk.”

With a laugh, he moved his hand to her belly and rested it there. “That’s not really a flattering analogy, Mandy. My lover is like a glass of warm milk—knocks me out cold every time.”

“What did you say?” she teased, letting her eyes drift shut. “I’ve fallen asleep.”

Damien laughed again, pulling the hot rumpled sheet over them. “Nothing. Go to sleep.” His wandering hand traveled north to her breast, stroking over her nipple. “Dream of me between your legs, licking you, sucking your clitoris, and stroking my tongue along your hot wetness.”

Oh, my, there was an image.

“Cunnilingus, you mean?”

He gave a wicked laugh, low and near her ear as they lay on their sides facing each other. “Oh, yeah. In your dreams just imagine me cunnilingusing the hell out of you.”

Mandy fell asleep with an anticipatory smile on her lips.

Chapter 22

Damien was in the kitchen trying to rustle up some coffee when someone knocked on the door. He glanced toward it, debating whether to open it or not. Mandy was still sleeping. Caroline was gone from the couch and the second bedroom door was still firmly shut.

He didn’t want to disturb Mandy or be presumptuous in her apartment, but the knock came again, so he went to the door.

There was a thin guy standing in the hallway looking politely startled. “Oh, good morning. I’m looking for Mandy.”

Mandy? Damien felt a green tidal wave roll over him. This was Ben, the Brit. Ben, the father of Mandy’s baby. Ben the bastard.

“She’s sleeping,” he said in the voice that had made many an assistant cry.

“Really? Well, that’s a bit surprising.” Ben glanced at his watch. “It’s a quarter of nine, and she starts at her office in fifteen minutes. I think you must be mistaken. Perhaps you can get Allison to check?” He held out his hand. “I’m Ben Hurst, by the way. You must be Allison’s new boyfriend.”