. . everyone is tucked in?” Liz asked, closing the drapes as she turned and saw that Clay had come into the room. “All tucked in.” “And Lena? Did you see to her?” “Oh, yes.” Smiling, Liz strolled over to where he stood. She touched his face, and then reached for the top button of his shirt, and methodically, to undo it, and then the others. She slid her hands against his bare chest, then stood on her toes, whispering against his ear. “Stephanie is very . . . I do mean very beautiful. Those blue eyes, and that dark, dark, nearly ebony hair. And the way she’s built . . . I don’t need to be jealous, do I?” “You?” He smiled, struggling out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. “Never!” He slid his hands beneath the silky shoulders of her see-through nightgown, causing it to fall to the floor. He crushed her against him, feeling the pressure of her breasts against his flesh. She reached for his belt buckle, undid it. Slowly, listening to the rasping sound of it, pulled down the zipper.
