Wow, she’d really needed that orgasm. He reached under her pillow and drew out a white, lacy nightgown. It was romantic and old-fashioned, and like nothing he could have imaginged she might wear. And yet it completely suited her. He nodded his approval. “You may continue to wear this.”
“I may?” A hint of the old Lacey shined through in the slight spark in her voice.
He nodded arrogantly. “I would normally want you naked. But I like this, it suits you. Arms up.” He knew he wouldn’t usually get away with such an order; she wouldn’t always be this compliant. But right now, she was still feeling mellow enough to obey him without an argument. She raised her arms, and he dropped the nightgown over her head, helping her thread her hands through the holes. It had small cap sleeves and ended part-way down her thighs.
He pulled back the covers on the bed. “Climb in.”
He gently kissed her lips. “Sleep. I’ll make sure the place is locked up. I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m taking you to brunch. I’ll also have a surprise for you.”
“What sort of surprise?” she asked.
“I can’t tell you that or it won’t be a surprise. But you’ll like it.”
He knew he would.
Chapter Twelve
She couldn’t believe she’d let him give her an orgasm—as she lay naked on her couch, fully on display while he’d been completely clothed.
Dear Lord, what had she been thinking?
You let him lick you, suck you, bring you to orgasm, and you didn’t do anything in return. True, he’d ordered her to keep her hands over her head, but surely afterwards she should have offered to do the same to him.
Idiot.
She was starting to think he wouldn’t call this morning. Why would he? She had to be the worst lover in the history of sex. After that orgasm, she’d practically fallen asleep. Who did that?
One orgasm and her brain went to mush. Except it hadn’t been just any orgasm, it had been the orgasm to beat all orgasms. Hot, strong, and fucking amazing. What she wouldn’t give for another one. She’d slept better than she had in years. No nightmares. No three a.m. wake ups where she couldn’t fall back asleep. Nope, it was now nine a.m., and she was still in bed.
Wow, she could use one of those every night. There was no way she could give anything back to him that was even half as good as what he’d given her. No way in hell.
Her cell phone rang, and she sat up in bed. Where had she put her phone? It must still be in her bag. But where was her bag? As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she was startled to see her phone sitting on the bedside table. She hadn’t put it there, which meant that Gray must have put it there last night.
That was sweet and thoughtful. She picked up the phone gently and looked at the caller ID.
Sexy man of my dreams.
Um, okay. Conceited much? And when had he changed his name in her phone?
“Hello?” she answered hesitantly in case she was wrong. Unlikely, but you never knew.
“Lacey, how are you? It’s Gray.” That last part was unnecessary, she’d recognize his voice anywhere.
She cleared her throat. “Gray, hi. What’s up?”
“Well, certain parts of me are definitely up. They haven’t really gone down from last night after I explored your delicious body. The taste of your pussy kept me awake half the night, wanting more.”
Oh, fuck. Why hadn’t she used a different sort of greeting?
“Sweetheart? You still there?”
“Um, yep.” Well done, Lacey. Eloquently put. She could win prizes for her ability to stay calm and confident under pressure. She leaned back against the headboard. “I’m here. You changed your name in my phone.”
“Sure did. I didn’t want you to forget who I am. Are you still in bed?”
“Y-yes.” Why was he asking her that?
“Wearing that little, feminine nightgown?”