“What?” I asked.
“Lots of better places for us to be,” was his answer.
Then before I could reply, he leaned down, put a shoulder in my belly, a hand at my wrist and an arm around my thighs and lifted, wrapping me around his neck. He turned and started walking toward the hall.
I shouted, “Crowe!” as if I minded him carrying me to bed.
Um.
Hardly.
I didn’t mind at all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chopped Liver
I woke up to heavy kitty footfalls on my body.
I felt Vance’s warmth against my back, his body spooning mine, his forearm resting just below my waist.
I decided this was my Number One Most Favorite Sleeping Position with Vance and I was looking forward to ranking alternates.
Boo walked back and forth across Vance and me. I could tell he was doing this because his kitty feet would leave me and then come back to me a lot further down or up my body.
I opened my eyes. It was still dark, nigh on winter so the days were short but I knew it was too early for Boo Breakfast.
When Boo was four-footed on my body, I did a jerk, he lost his position and slid clumsily down my belly with an angry, “Meow!”
I wrapped an arm around him and tucked him into my body. He started purring loudly.
“Would you break up with me if I killed your cat?” Vance’s sleepy-rough voice sounded against the back of my neck.
“Probably.”
Vance’s arm moved, his hand sliding up my belly, midriff, then came to rest cupping my breast.
I was wrong, there was only a subtle change but this was my Number One Most Favorite Sleeping Position with Vance.
* * * * *
I woke up again and it was later. I didn’t know how much later but I instinctively knew there wasn’t much time before the alarm went.
I rolled to my belly, dislodging Boo and Vance’s arm. Vance moved automatically, falling to his back. I turned into him, ready to say something but when I lifted up on my elbows I realized he was still asleep.
I wished I could turn on a light. I’d never seen him asleep. He was always up before or with me.
I studied him. There was something about him asleep from what I could see in the near-dark, he seemed almost… boyish.
God, I wanted to kiss him as in really wanted to kiss him.
This gave me pause for reflection. Not as to why I’d want to kiss him because that was obvious but as to why I didn’t. He was my boyfriend (or whatever). We were exclusive. He was sleeping in my bed. We’d had incredible sex not seven hours earlier.
Why not? Why couldn’t I kiss him?
So I kissed him.
Not a full-on, full tongue, let’s-have-sex-right-now kiss but I touched my lips to his.