Fighting Dirty

Merissa avoided his mouth and instead kissed his forehead, then the bridge of his nose. “The woman who was here tonight, that’s what she likes?”

“She likes her bottom hot.” Armie turned his head and nuzzled into her neck. “But I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

On the contrary, she found it fascinating. “So you...spank her?”

“Yeah.” He lightly bit her shoulder, then stilled. “You into that?”

Merissa gave an emphatic, “No.”

Armie relaxed again. “Good. I would never want to hurt you. Not in any way.”

Touched by that confession, Merissa hugged his head to her breasts. The way he’d said that though, not in any way, had her thoughts churning.

He did a little more nuzzling, getting close to her nipples. She scooted back down so they were again face-to-face.

Armie just looked at her, his gaze probing and aroused, but also slightly off focus.

“I sort of expected your bedroom to be full of sex toys.”

“Mmm,” he murmured with a smile. “Women bring their own.”

That reply took her by surprise. “Really?”

Trailing his fingertips down her arm, he said, “I figure they can handle their own cleanup.”

Euewww. “TMI.”

He laughed, kissed the top of her head. “How can it be too much information when you’re grilling me?”

“I didn’t expect...”

“Sex is a messy business.” His voice went deeper. “Women get nice and wet when turned on, and men come.” He stroked her hair back. “You know that.”

She knew plain vanilla sex with men she hadn’t loved. No sex toys, no restraints and definitely no spanking. She didn’t need kink with Armie, but she wanted him happy. “What you said to that woman...”

“It’s really bad form for me to spank and tell.”

She scooted closer. “But I’m curious.”

“God,” he groaned, “don’t be.”

She loved the sprinkling of chest hair over his solid pecs, and that tantalizing trail that bisected his body. She loved that he respected women enough to care about sharing things private, and that he didn’t want to take advantage of her.

She loved his body and his attitude, his capability and his concern—she loved everything about him. “I’ll keep it general.”

He rocked her a little and asked, “Why don’t you sleep?”

“Do you enjoy spanking women?”

He groaned again.

“Armie,” she persisted.

He silently stared at her for a good long while, then surprised her again by turning to his stomach, stacking an arm under his cheek, and getting comfortable.

“Armie?”

Time ticked by. Merissa narrowed her eyes. “If you just fall asleep, I swear I’ll—”

He didn’t move. Didn’t open his eyes. She huffed. He’d actually gone to sleep. She watched his back rise and fall with deep, even breaths. Seeing the raised, discolored welt there softened her annoyance.

Then she noticed that when he’d turned over, he’d displaced his boxers. The waistband was tugged down a good three inches on one side, showing a strip of paler flesh over the top of his firm butt. With one fingertip she traced his spine, and still he didn’t stir.

Would he remember any of this tomorrow morning? Oh, it was evil of her, but she almost hoped he wouldn’t. It’d be fun to give him a hard time, to reveal to him, little by little, everything they’d discussed and how many times he’d kissed her.

As to that, she smiled, thinking wicked, very naughty thoughts as she watched him sleep. Her gaze went to his partially exposed backside.

Well, she did leave her signature note everywhere.

Grinning, she slipped from the bed but returned within a minute. Armie’s breathing had turned into a light snore, and he slept through the writing of her note.

With that done she crawled back into the bed, curled up close to him and fell asleep with a happy smile on her face.

* * *

ARMIE WOKE SLOWLY, his eyes blurry, his head more so. When he moved, several things hurt. Nothing new in that. He sparred hard, fought hard and often woke with sore muscles or minor injuries. He stretched awake.

And suddenly remembered.

Sitting up with a jolt, he looked to the other side of the bed and found it empty. He was out of the room in a heartbeat, searching until he found the pot of coffee in the kitchen and the note folded against it that read Rissy was here. Damn.

Turning to the kitchen sink, he splashed his face and tried to get his bearings. He remembered her coming over, remembered her leading him off to his bedroom.

Remembered her stripping off her jeans.

His gaze shot down, and relief rolled through him when he saw he still wore his boxers. That told him a lot because no way would he have worked around them if they’d gotten busy.

So clearly they hadn’t.

Dropping back against the sink, he racked his brain and finally remembered his lame plan. He’d figured on pretending to be asleep to both discourage her from asking sexual questions and encourage him to keep his hands to himself.

Unfortunately, he must have actually passed out on her.

Embarrassing, but also a lifesaver.

Had he held her all night? Turning, he strode back down the hall to his bedroom and stalled at the sight of his bed.

He’d been there with Merissa. Memories of touching her, kissing her, teasing and talking with her all drifted in and out of his thoughts.