He opened one eye and checked the old-fashioned cuckoo clock adjacent to the dresser. Six in the morning—he’d actually slept a whole four hours and knew the reason for his restful slumber nestled in his embrace. The alluring crook of her neck proved too potent a temptation. He swept her silky curls down her back and nuzzled her sweet flesh. “Mmmm. Your stubble feels delicious.” She arched to one side for him. He accepted her not-so-subtle invitation and kissed his way to her ear. “Morning.” She stretched her arms over her head and rolled over to face him. “Good morning. Do we have time for a quickie?” “If we skip breakfast, yeah.” He pushed her T-shirt up to her cleavage, cupped her breasts, and rolled his thumbs over her erect nipples. “Your tits are magnificent. Can’t get over the color of these. So mouth-wateringly pink.” Color washed across her face and throat. “I didn’t think women still blushed.
