“Christ, how do you turn this f**king thing off?” he growled, his voice gruff with sleep.
Evidently, Prentice was not a morning person.
She took it from him and pressed the off button. Without delay, he pulled it from her hand and put it back to the nightstand.
She tried to get her thoughts together but they were randomly and determinedly skipping from one to another, all of them centered around how very much she liked waking up next to Prentice (even grouchy Prentice).
His body was warm, it was big, it was strong, it was pressed up against hers and the bed felt cozy and safe with him in it.
His face went into her neck and she felt his lips there.
She liked that too.
His hand glided up her belly to between her br**sts as he said, “We have to be quick, baby. Need to get the kids up and fed.”
Those br**sts his palm rested between started tingling.
“Quick?” she asked, her mind muddled, nothing he said made sense.
And, anyway, she didn’t want him to make sense. She wanted to nestle into him and go back to the dreamless, restful sleep she only seemed to have when he was with her.
She realized what he meant when his palm moved from between her br**sts to cup one of them and his teeth nipped her earlobe.
She trembled.
“Quick,” he replied.
Before she could catch a thought his face went away from her neck, he pressed her to her back, rolled over her, his mouth captured hers in a heady kiss and then Prentice deliciously guided them through “quick”.
It wasn’t until they were na**d in the shower and the water was sluicing into her hair and down her body that Isabella’s thoughts semi-focused.
They focused first on the fact that she was na**d with Prentice in the shower and she wasn’t certain she was entirely comfortable with that.
Then they focused on the fact that Prentice was na**d with her in the shower and she was very certain she was comfortable with that because he had a fantastic body.
Then they focused on the fact they were all of a sudden in the shower even though she’d barely had time to recover from the cl**ax he’d just given her. He hadn’t even let her get her breathing regulated or her heart rate slowed before he pulled her out of bed and hustled her into the bathroom.
He definitely didn’t let her get her thoughts sorted.
She tipped her head back, blinking against the spray and looked up at him.
“Pren –”
She, yet again, didn’t finish his name.
“Jesus, Elle, with all this shit, do you have any shampoo?”
Her blinking eyes saw he had two of her bottles in his hands and he was studying them.
“That’s body wash,” she informed him inanely, pointing to the bottle in his right hand. “And that’s body scrub,” she went on, pointing to the bottle in his left.
He put them down and grabbed another one.
“That’s conditioner,” she said quickly.
He looked at her, put the conditioner down and grabbed another one.
“That’s shave lotion.”