“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, finding her lips and nipping at them.

“Good.” She smiled. “I don’t think I could take another hit-and-run.”

He bit the curve of her neck, sending a shock wave of want through her, followed by goose bumps.

They were both dirty from the day, bloody and battle-bruised. Her stomach and arm ached, and Theo had cracked his head really good, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered now was their skin, sliding hot and silky against each other’s. All that mattered now was the bed behind them and the different ways they wanted to show how much they cared about each other.

He dropped to his knees and pulled her against him, gently brushing his lips over the bruise that was blooming over her abdomen. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.” She let her fingers brush through his hair. “Touching you makes all my pain go away.”

Theo stood, slid his hands around her, and unhooked her bra, but she sidled back away from him with a mischievous smile before he could free it. She finally had a chance to undress him and see every inch of his gloriousness; no way was she allowing him to get distracted by her breasts.

She sank down on her knees and pushed the hem of his tight black T-shirt upward, revealing the tanned, tattooed expanse of his washboard stomach. Pure delight warmed her as she scattered kisses over it, feeling the brush of the line of dark hair that ran down past the waistband of his jeans against her lips. Sarafina closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin and savoring the smooth hardness of his abdomen before she rose and pushed his T-shirt up and over his head, leaving him lusciously bare from the waist up.

Oh, yeah. Candy. And she still had the entire lower half. This was better than Christmas.

Sarafina took her time exploring, her fingers tracing his muscles and the hills and valleys of that mouthwatering geography. She brushed his nipples with the flat of her fingers and he shuddered, closing his eyes and tipping his head back on a groan that sounded caught somewhere between pleasure and torture.

He slipped off his shoes and socks at her urging, and she held his gaze while she dropped her hands to the button fly of his jeans and slipped it through the loop. She pushed his boxers and jeans to the floor.

For the first time, he was naked and she was clothed . . . at least a little.