Jori hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d rolled away from her. Was she okay? Most women let him know, sometimes in very explicit terms, that he’d satisfied them. Jori had just hugged him once, tightly, and then let him go. It had taken him a few seconds to realize that he was the one still holding on to her for dear life. It had been awfully hard to pull away from her soft warmth, harder than he’d thought it would be. But he’d done it. Because to do anything else would mean that he wasn’t ready to leave. And yet, he was still here. Worried, he glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed but she was smiling. That smile made him feel proud, as if he’d done something wonderful. Damn! No strings had just sprouted a few tendrils. He felt her roll toward him and then her warm little fingers were moving across his thigh toward his groin. If she touched him again, he wouldn’t get out of this bed for a long long time. He grabbed her hand before it found its goal and moved it away. She looked puzzled.
