FOURTEEN
“STILL WITH ME, SWEETLING?”
“Barely. It was a close thing there when you turned the frosting on me.”
Theo, lying on his back, a sated and very smug look on his face, waggled his eyebrows and hummed a happy little song about frosting-covered nether parts. “You certainly did seem to enjoy it.”
“That, my adorable fanged one, is the understatement of the year. Are you sure you’re full? You seemed to spend more time in action, to be euphemistic, rather than dining.”
“I am full. I am well-pleasured. I am physically exhausted,” Theo said, waving a languid hand. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed as he lay next to me on the bed, delightfully n***d. I trailed a finger down one of his biceps, making him smile a drowsy smile.
“You take a nap then, handsome. You certainly worked har
