The same was true of a spectacular kiss, or an especially lovely pair of breasts, or a captivating scent. A man couldn’t un-kiss a woman, or un-touch her breasts, or un-inhale her scent. Once he’d tasted, touched, and inhaled, the horse was well and truly out of the barn. No use slamming the door now. Robyn stumbled from his bedchamber and made his way down the stairs to the breakfast room. He hadn’t even seen Lily’s breasts last night. He hadn’t even laid a finger on them. Oh, very well, damn it. He’d laid one finger on one of them. Not even a handful, and hardly enough to fall into a frenzy of lust, but still he’d been awake most of the night, imagining what it would have felt like to lay two fingers on them. Or more. Perhaps even an entire palm. “Good morning,” he mumbled to his sisters, both of whom sat in the breakfast room drinking their morning chocolate. Lily was nowhere to be seen. Just as well.
