Jonathan said, his words waking me up. “Think we can manage that?” “The chickens,” I said, my voice still thick with slumber. I realized that I was lying on Jonathan’s chest and that we were both naked. Had we really been so tired after our shower last night that we hadn’t put pajamas on? “I don’t think the chickens will starve,” he said, planting a kiss on my shoulder. “They’ll be ornery,” I said, my eyes closed. I smiled at the tickle of his lips against my sensitive skin. “They’ll survive.” Jonathan’s persuasions were getting more and more tempting, though it could have something to do with the circles he was drawing on my back with the very tips of his fingers. “Maybe I can feed them this afternoon instead,” I said, stretching and groaning as Jonathan’s fingers stilled against my skin. “Don’t stop.” “I never want to stop,”
