for this,” he said, scooping her up as he stood and heading for the door. “Where’s the bedroom?”
Her head tucked on his shoulder, her breath fanning against his cheek, she directed him down the hall to her room. The colors in here were as soothing as those in the living room, Patrick noted vaguely as he settled her in the middle of a double bed on which the sheets had already been turned down. She regarded him with a lazy look.
“You’re not climbing in here unless you lose some of those clothes, Devaney.”
He grinned. “Which ones? Any preference about where I start?”
She studied him thoughtfully. “The shoes and socks first, I think, then the shirt. After that, I’ll give it some more thought.”
Patrick kicked off his shoes and stripped away his socks, then dragged his flannel shirt over his head without bothering to unbutton more than the top two buttons. “Next?”
“The belt, I think. Slowly, please.”
He bit back a grin. “You sure you don’t want a little background music for this striptease?”
“Nope. You’re doing fine. Now, lose the T-shirt.”
“Okay, then,” he said, when he was standing before her, bare-chested and surprisingly self-conscious. “There’s not a lot left. Do the jeans go or stay for now?”
“They go, of course.”
Getting into the spirit of it and enjoying the mischievous pleasure shining in her eyes, he unsnapped the jeans then took his own sweet time unzipping them. He executed a little twirl before sliding them off and kicking them across the room.
Alice laughed. “Nice touch. I like the jockeys, by the way. Red is definitely your color.”
“Probably matches my cheeks about now,” he said, kneeling on the bed to press a kiss to her lips.
Alice cupped his face in her hands. “You aren’t embarrassed, are you?”
“Darlin’, what I am is hot and bothered.”
Her smile spread. “Well, then, come on over here and let’s see what we can do about that.”
“I have a few ideas.”
“Yes, I imagine you do.”
He studied her expression, then chuckled. “But we’re doing this your way, am I right?”
She reached for the waistband of his jockeys, her fingers grazing his belly. “Oh, yeah,” she said, her eyes bright with anticipation.
“Then, go for it,” he said, closing his eyes and lying back against the pillows. “I’m all yours.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her murmur something that sounded a lot like “If only,” but then her hands were playing their wicked games, and Patrick completely lost himself in her touch.
Chapter Twelve
Alice had waited too long for Patrick to make love to her to want to rush through it. She intended to torment him until he was at least half as crazy with desire as she’d been for a couple of weeks now.
She sat back on her heels, her robe spilling open to display more bare flesh than she’d exposed to anyone except her doctor in a long time. Patrick was reclining against her pillows, clad in nothing except those bright-red jockey shorts, and she intended to savor the sight. The man was hard as a rock, every muscle well defined, not from working out in a gym but from his daily life. She reached out and ran her fingers over his abdomen and felt the muscles jerk at her touch. She could also see the effect on another well-defined portion of his anatomy, which his jockeys did nothing to disguise.
“Interesting,” she murmured, as if she were conducting an experiment.
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Having fun yet?”
“Absolutely,” she said, moving on to the warm skin of his broad chest. She tangled her fingers in the shadowing of dark hair that curled tightly against tanned skin. She could feel the heat radiating from him and uttered a little sigh of satisfaction. She hadn’t realized how much she missed touching a man like this, how much she missed the closeness with another human being.
Even so, the closeness felt different somehow, more intense. More complete. She realized that because her feelings for Patrick ran deeper, she craved more than physical intimacy with him. She craved the emotional connection that had been building between them.
Not that the physical was all bad. No, indeed, she thought as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat and felt his pulse leap. Then he clamped his hand on the back of her neck and held her still.
“Enough,” he said just before closing his mouth over hers.
His tongue invaded in a heartbeat, stirring sensations low in her belly. Even as his