I held him tight in three limbs, my hand in his thick hair sliding through repeatedly as both our heart rates slowed, our breath evened, and finally he stopped stroking and stayed planted inside me.

Against my skin, with a gentle tug on the material at one side, he asked, “To sleep, you gotta change outta this into a normal nightie?”

I laughed softly and stopped stroking his hair to wind my arm around his shoulders.

After dinner and snickerdoodles, he took me to his bedroom where we fooled around on his bed until we were fooling around partially unclothed then we were seriously fooling around because we were totally naked. He took his time, I took mine and only at the end when it was skin against skin and breathing was so labored there were no whispered words that it got wild and energetic.

This, of course, totally blew out of the water the plan I came up with while kickboxing. Undeterred, after we were done, when I hit his bathroom to take out my contacts and prepare for bed, I slid on the short, deep-lavender nightie with slits up the sides, thick edges of delicate black lace, and a pair of black lace panties, all of which cost a fortune because it was pure silk and the lace was extraordinary.

In glasses and wearing what I thought was an in-joke, I walked into Brock’s bedroom only to find Brock didn’t think my nightie was funny. I knew this when his eyes hit me, his whole face got dark, the air in the room became so sweltering it felt like it was pressing against my skin, and the minute I got close to the bed, he moved. Lunging toward me, his arm hooked me at the waist and he yanked me into the bed, pulled off my glasses, tossed them unheeded on the nightstand, and we started up again. This time, from start to finish, it was wild and energetic. No pleasant exploration, no lazy caresses. It was hot, heavy, and completely abandoned.

I answered his question with, “Actually, it’s kinda comfy.”

His head came up and he looked down at me. “Good, ’cause I like it.”

I grinned at him and whispered, “I kinda got that.”

He grinned back and his head descended so his mouth could touch mine then it slid down my cheek to work at my neck, slow, lazy, and sweet.

His hips moved slightly as he pulled out gently and I drew in a soft breath at the feel of it and the fact I didn’t like the loss of him. My arms gave him a squeeze as my head turned.

In his ear, I whispered, “I have to go get cleaned up.”

His head came up, his sated eyes caught mine, and he whispered back, “All right, baby.”

His face dipped to my throat, his lips touched me there, and he rolled off.