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“Lady GaGa.” I giggled.
“This is your second warning. No more disrespecting my music.” He snatched the blanket away and attacked me with kisses on my lips, face, and neck.
His hands gripped my hips, but didn’t stray to other places. When he ended the delicious torture, my panties were wet, nipples hard, and lust curled in places, hoping he would kiss them there, too.
The blanket fell away from my body and landed behind me.
I stared back at him with hooded eyes and hunger swirling through my chest.
“Hmmm. Don’t look at me like that.” He climbed off me, wearing no shirt. His arm muscles bulged with the movement.
A nice-sized erection pressed outward against his black jogging pants.
“We don’t have to do your whole wait to have sex challenge.” Dressed in only Chase’s t-shirt and my panties, I lifted my shirt a little and exposed my bare legs.
He shifted his view to my thighs. “No. I want to show you that this arrangement will be more than sex.”
“I think waiting the whole month is a bit crazy.” I spread my legs open. His t-shirt rose more and revealed a pair of pink panties to him.
“Damn. Maybe we’ll just wait a week or two.” Licking his lips, Chase gripped his erection with a shaking hand and edged away.
My sex clenched and I wished I could touch him there, but he’d been moving my hands away all night, each time I tried to sneak a feel.
“Or we can make love now and then wait a week or two.” I wagged my eyebrows at him.
“You just drank a bottle of wine. You’ll wake up tomorrow pissed at me.”
I considered what he said. “I doubt it.”
“We should get some rest.” He switched off the light. “Once the plane drops in Paris, I’ve got a feeling you’ll keep me up the whole time we’re there and drag me around the city, visiting shops and eating weird food.”
“It won’t be weird.”
“You said you wanted to try head cheese.” He scrunched his nose up as if he’d smelled something rank.
“I bet it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
I’d explained that head cheese was not cheese at all, but sort of a meat jelly that was made from the boiling parts of a calf or pig’s head. His face had actually turned red from the details. Telling him that the brain, eyes, and ears were not boiled with the head to make the cheese did not soothe his fears at all.
“I’m not eating it,” he declared.
“You promised.”
He groaned. “Whatever. Let’s go to sleep. You’ve kept us up long enough.”
“Nope. It’s your fault we’re still up.” I pinched his stomach when he pulled me into his arms.
“You told me to tell you about the Beatles,” he said.
“I figured their history would be boring enough to put me to sleep.” I laughed.
“Careful. I’ll throw you out of this plane if you keep that up.”
“Your fandom is extreme.”
“Okay.” He sat up and grabbed his iPod. The screen illuminated the room. “I’m sure you’re Beatled out by now. Would you like to hear something else?”
“Definitely.”
