They shared a small smile, and Morgan finished her dinner with a goofy grin of satisfaction on her face.

A few hours later, the dishes were piled up to the cabinets, the garbage cans were full, and company had left. Tristan and Dalton snuck out before Cal could ream them about helping clean up, then sniped about his cleaning woman wanting to quit since his brothers moved in.

“Screw it,” Cal said, looking at the disaster. “I’ll make them deal with it tomorrow. Imagine how surprised they’ll be when they figure out we didn’t clean up for them.”

Morgan nibbled her lip in concern. “Yes, but the party was my idea.”

“You cooked and set up. They clean. We’re going to bed.”

“But—”

He stopped any further protest by scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to his bedroom. As hard as she tried to be affronted by the caveman behavior, she was already wet with need for him. That commanding streak in him turned her on. He placed her on the bed, then took a few steps back. Eyes hot and hungry, he studied her, then sat down in the oversize leather chair in the corner of his room and hooked one foot over his ankle in a relaxed pose.

She blinked. “Aren’t you coming over here?”

His slow grin was wicked and made her belly twist. “I want you to strip for me.”

She sucked in a breath. Hesitated. He waited her out, and suddenly her inner temptress stood up and took over. There was something about the way this man made her feel that urged her to do things she never would have thought of. She felt like his own personal goddess: a sexy, powerful woman with nothing to hide. Morgan loved the way he made her own her sexuality without apology.

Without answering, she climbed off the bed and stood before him. She was dressed in simple cream pants and a lilac blouse. But she’d put on her new bra and panty set today, knowing he’d take it off. Even buying it made her feel deliciously wicked.

She began to unbutton her blouse, going slow and steady, then dragged the silk material down over her shoulders, hooking it on her elbows. He ate her up with those charcoal eyes, taking in the delicate plum lace of her bra. “Went shopping, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I highly approve.” He cleared his throat. “Continue.”

She smiled with pure naughtiness and dropped the blouse on the floor, then slowly removed her bra as well. Running her fingers lightly over her breasts and tweaking her nipples, a low moan escaped her lips. He shifted in the chair, his erection straining his jeans. Dragging her palms down her belly, she stroked the edge of her waistband, then snagged her thumbs underneath. Paused. And slowly dragged the pants down.

“Fuck. You’re beautiful.”

The matching plum thong showed off her freshly shaved pussy and stubble-free legs. She kicked the pants off her feet and waited.

“Finish for me, baby. You’re killing me.”

She caressed her outer thighs and grasped the sides of her panties. Pulled them off. And stood before him naked.

He drank her in, and she reveled in the glory of being the woman he wanted. She straightened up so her breasts thrust out proudly. Let him take his time. She waited for him to come to her.

“What are you reading now?”

Her mouth fell half open. What had he asked? Her brain was a bit foggy, and it was obvious he was aroused, but had he just questioned her on her reading material? “Huh?”

Cal got up from the chair and walked to the bureau. “I was thinking about our conversation regarding books. Reading. You said you enjoyed Austen, Dickens. Fitzgerald. You know, boring old classics, dusty with age.” Opening a drawer, he took out a few condoms and laid them on the table. “Is that what you’re still reading?”

She watched him reach inside the drawer, sifting around for something. What the heck was going on? Morgan fought for sanity. “Umm, I wasn’t expecting a literary discussion right now, but yes, I told you. I like the classics.”

“Interesting. Did you finish up the story on the inn? You know, the one in Boonsboro?”

Uh-oh.

Morgan stared at him with suspicion. “Yes. Why are you so interested?”

His fingers closed around the object he’d been looking for, and he pulled it out of the drawer. A bright, silky red tie and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs were laid next to the condoms. The roaring in her ears grew to epic proportions, and her blood flowed thick and hot in her veins. A small moan broke from her lips. He knew. Oh, God, he knew.

“Nora Roberts is a popular author,” he said conversationally. His fingers stroked the bright tie in a loving caress. Wetness dripped down her thigh. “She certainly doesn’t write dry history books. Seems you’re a bit of a romantic, Morgan Raines. And from your newest read, a very naughty, naughty little girl.”

She tried to speak, couldn’t, then tried again. “You read my Kindle.”

“Yep. I grabbed it to check something on the Internet quickly. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the current scene with Amy and Brad. Quite hot.” He clucked his tongue and faced her. The full force of his masculine presence whipped around her. His eyes glazed with lust and a determination that wracked shivers from her body. “I took the liberty of checking out your library to see what else I was missing. There wasn’t a Dickens in the bunch.”

“Cal—”

“I’m going to do very bad things to you tonight, Morgan Raines. You won’t need a safe word.”

“Cal—”

“ ’Cause all you have to do is say yes.”

He stopped in front of her. His thumb pressed against her lips, dragging them open. Her tongue flicked out to taste him. He leaned in, and his breath struck her with each deliberate word. “I’m going to make some of your fantasies come true tonight, baby. What’s your answer?”

The floodgates broke open and she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his thick hair and offering her naked body up to every filthy thing he wanted to do to her.

“Yes.”

His mouth came down on hers, and he delivered on his promise.

Hours later, Cal listened to her breathing in the silence. Stroking her back, he relaxed in the tangle of damp sheets and held her. Her leg was thrown over his thigh and hooked around his knee. Her silvery hair spilled over his arm and caught slivers of moonlight that leaked through the half-open window.

He couldn’t let her go.