Forbidden: Her British Stepbrot - Lauren Smith Page 0,63

friends like that,” he said.

He stood and unzipped his jeans. The responding blush on her face as she watched him strip out of them was rewarding. He loved how she responded to him and the way she seemed caught off guard by her innate sensuality.

Her lips were slightly parted, her hair a wonderful tumble of color, like Sleeping Beauty brought to life in a faraway tower with a kiss. The fantasies she created in his mind were sensual and powerful. Everything about Kat was unusual and fascinated him.

Passion awakened for his Katherine, his Kat.

“Have you ever slept naked before?” he asked as he climbed back into bed.

She shook her head. Another deep blush spread from her face to the tips of her breasts.

“You’re tempting me, darling.” Tristan leaned over and teased her lips with his before he gave in to kissing her fully. After a minute, he pulled away. “Now go to sleep.” He laughed at her put-out expression.

She rolled to face him, one arm stretched out. Kat paused, as though catching herself. Her eyelashes fanned up and down as she fell asleep again.

Tristan reached for her, curling an arm around her waist. She reacted by cuddling against him, holding on to him like she had the pillow.

In the past, he hadn’t been too fond of his lovers staying the night. There was too much intimacy when people slept together, sharing breaths, their dreams close enough to collide. But with Kat, he wanted to hold her, feel her heartbeat, and listen to her breathe.

It was clear she craved the same physical connection he did.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Her words were muffled by her drowsiness, her eyes still closed.

“For what?” he asked, trying not to laugh at her stubborn fight against sleep.

“Tonight. I found out recently that my dad”—she paused—“is dating someone. It’s been…hard for me the last week, trying to adjust and everything.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, and the action filled his chest with a cottony warmth.

There she was, opening up to him about what she was thinking and feeling. It was everything he thought he didn’t want when it came to women and relationships, but with Kat, he wanted to know her inside and out.

“I’m sorry.” He tightened his grip around her. “I know how you feel. My mother has also started dating, too. I’m not thrilled. The last man she dated was an absolute cad. I’ll have to inspect this man before he receives my approval.” It felt good to know he wasn’t the only one having to accept his parent dating again. His mother was a beautiful woman, and it shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did that she was seeing a man romantically.

“‘Approval’? You sound like royalty.” Kat giggled, the sleepy sound going straight to his cock. He wanted to roll over on top of her and give her something to laugh about. But they’d already done enough for her first time. She’d be sore.

He stroked her waist as they talked, amused that this was…pleasant. Talking with a woman had never been enjoyable before, not after sex, at any rate. He’d always felt trapped when he couldn’t get a woman to leave his bed fast enough. Now he wanted to find ways to make Kat stay.

“Why do I sense that my acting ‘like royalty’ isn’t a compliment?”

Kat shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever you say, my lord .”

He stroked her body beneath the covers, enjoying the feel of her, pressed skin-to-skin with him. “I’ll be an earl one day. It’s not royalty, but it is the peerage.”

“The peerage,” she echoed in a British accent and giggled again. The sound was infectious, and it made him laugh, too.

“What’s so funny?”

Kat, eyes still closed, hugged him a little tighter. “I’ll tell you in the morning.” She was so close to sleep, he didn’t have the heart to keep her awake.

“All right, darling. Sweet dreams.” He kissed her brow and held her as she drifted to sleep.

Tristan wasn’t tired, and for some reason, he was perfectly content to hold Kat and count the faint freckles on her shoulders. He wanted to memorize the sight of her pert little nose and her long dark lashes. He didn’t wish to be anywhere else or with anyone else.

What the bloody hell is happening to me?

Chapter 17

K at sat in the back of the cab, clutching her duffle bag, backpack, and cell phone. As the driver pulled onto a side street in London’s West End, she checked her messages. Tristan