The accelerating of her heartbeat made it tough to keep it cool, but she opened the door with a casual, “Hey, Stack. I wasn’t expecting you.”
He pressed in without an invitation, closed the door, took her mug from her, and then took her mouth.
Yup, anticipation. Had he missed her? She hoped so, because she’d sure missed him. Long into the night she’d thought about him, about him with Whitney, about his reaction if he ever learned of her machinations.
The lingering kiss swept away her worries.
God, he was better than the coffee, delivering a stronger jolt than caffeine ever could.
With small nibbling kisses, he eased away. “I needed that.”
Eyes still closed, she nodded. “Mmm. Me, too.”
The smile sounded in his tone when he whispered, “Hi.”
She struggled to ground herself. “Okay. I could get used to that.”
“To unexpected visitors?”
Her eyes felt heavy as she got them open. “To morning kisses.”
Bringing his brows together, he said, “You want to clarify that as per our understanding last night?”
Lifting a brow, she showed her confusion.
“Morning kisses from...?”
“Oh.” She leaned in and hugged him. “I could get used to hot morning kissing from a hotter fighter—”
He reached as if to smack her butt again.
Laughing, her bottom now covered with both of her hands, she blurted, “A hot fighter named Stack Hannigan!”
He grinned with her. “There you go.” Then he pointed to his mouth. “One more?”
“With pleasure.” She slipped her arms around his neck and teased, catching his bottom lip in her teeth, then licking his upper lip, and lastly angling her head to taste him deeply.
He growled, held her with one arm, and took over.
She was about to drag him to the floor when he said, “Much more of that and I’ll spill your coffee.”
Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten all about it.
He looked her over and smiled. “Cute.”
“What?”
“The messy hair, flannel pants, naked toes and paint on your cheek.” Between his fingers, he rubbed a hank of hair that had fallen from her hasty updo. “It’ll wash out?”
“Hmm?” She pulled the thick lock of hair out to see it, and grimaced at the blue paint with flecks of yellow and amber. Quickly she tucked it behind her ear. “It will, yes.”
“Toes aren’t cold?”
“A little. I was downstairs painting but left my slippers at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Got paint on them, too, huh?”
His grin charmed her. “Maybe.” When she painted, she tended to get it everywhere. Luckily she also had a shower in the basement, and a utility tub for cleaning her brushes.
“I especially like this camisole.” Bold as you please, Stack traced one finger around her nipple, sending a shiver all the way to her core.
Returning to reality, she inhaled sharply and stepped out of reach. “Did you come by just to warm me up, or for another reason?”
“Since you said you’d be working, I figured I’d take the dogs for a jog.” Wearing a curious frown, he glanced beyond her. “Where are they?”
Uh-oh. Heat flashed to her face, making her warmer still. “Um...” Somehow she just knew he would end up irked. “See, I was painting and they were great, except that they kept wanting in and out, so when Leese called—”
With no inflection whatsoever—which sort of made it worse—he restated, “Leese called you.”
Fascinating how his eyes darkened to gray-blue. She nodded. “Remember, he and I are friends.”
He started around her for the kitchen—looking for Leese?
Vanity hurried after him. “He had the same idea as you! They’re all out jogging.”
Stopping abruptly, Stack kept his back to her. The set of his shoulders, his spine, showed his displeasure.
And still Vanity soaked up the sight of him.
Bright morning sunshine poured through the window, showing the blond highlights in his brown hair, caressing the breadth of those amazing shoulders.
She paused right behind him. “I’m not interested in Leese. Not that way.”
“What way is that?”
She stepped closer to his back, slid her hands under his loose sweatshirt, up his bare sides, then crisscrossed them over his chest. She rested her cheek against him. “The way I’m interested in you.”
His head tipped back. “Sexually.”
He pressed in without an invitation, closed the door, took her mug from her, and then took her mouth.
Yup, anticipation. Had he missed her? She hoped so, because she’d sure missed him. Long into the night she’d thought about him, about him with Whitney, about his reaction if he ever learned of her machinations.
The lingering kiss swept away her worries.
God, he was better than the coffee, delivering a stronger jolt than caffeine ever could.
With small nibbling kisses, he eased away. “I needed that.”
Eyes still closed, she nodded. “Mmm. Me, too.”
The smile sounded in his tone when he whispered, “Hi.”
She struggled to ground herself. “Okay. I could get used to that.”
“To unexpected visitors?”
Her eyes felt heavy as she got them open. “To morning kisses.”
Bringing his brows together, he said, “You want to clarify that as per our understanding last night?”
Lifting a brow, she showed her confusion.
“Morning kisses from...?”
“Oh.” She leaned in and hugged him. “I could get used to hot morning kissing from a hotter fighter—”
He reached as if to smack her butt again.
Laughing, her bottom now covered with both of her hands, she blurted, “A hot fighter named Stack Hannigan!”
He grinned with her. “There you go.” Then he pointed to his mouth. “One more?”
“With pleasure.” She slipped her arms around his neck and teased, catching his bottom lip in her teeth, then licking his upper lip, and lastly angling her head to taste him deeply.
He growled, held her with one arm, and took over.
She was about to drag him to the floor when he said, “Much more of that and I’ll spill your coffee.”
Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten all about it.
He looked her over and smiled. “Cute.”
“What?”
“The messy hair, flannel pants, naked toes and paint on your cheek.” Between his fingers, he rubbed a hank of hair that had fallen from her hasty updo. “It’ll wash out?”
“Hmm?” She pulled the thick lock of hair out to see it, and grimaced at the blue paint with flecks of yellow and amber. Quickly she tucked it behind her ear. “It will, yes.”
“Toes aren’t cold?”
“A little. I was downstairs painting but left my slippers at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Got paint on them, too, huh?”
His grin charmed her. “Maybe.” When she painted, she tended to get it everywhere. Luckily she also had a shower in the basement, and a utility tub for cleaning her brushes.
“I especially like this camisole.” Bold as you please, Stack traced one finger around her nipple, sending a shiver all the way to her core.
Returning to reality, she inhaled sharply and stepped out of reach. “Did you come by just to warm me up, or for another reason?”
“Since you said you’d be working, I figured I’d take the dogs for a jog.” Wearing a curious frown, he glanced beyond her. “Where are they?”
Uh-oh. Heat flashed to her face, making her warmer still. “Um...” Somehow she just knew he would end up irked. “See, I was painting and they were great, except that they kept wanting in and out, so when Leese called—”
With no inflection whatsoever—which sort of made it worse—he restated, “Leese called you.”
Fascinating how his eyes darkened to gray-blue. She nodded. “Remember, he and I are friends.”
He started around her for the kitchen—looking for Leese?
Vanity hurried after him. “He had the same idea as you! They’re all out jogging.”
Stopping abruptly, Stack kept his back to her. The set of his shoulders, his spine, showed his displeasure.
And still Vanity soaked up the sight of him.
Bright morning sunshine poured through the window, showing the blond highlights in his brown hair, caressing the breadth of those amazing shoulders.
She paused right behind him. “I’m not interested in Leese. Not that way.”
“What way is that?”
She stepped closer to his back, slid her hands under his loose sweatshirt, up his bare sides, then crisscrossed them over his chest. She rested her cheek against him. “The way I’m interested in you.”
His head tipped back. “Sexually.”
