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Now that I’d had his hands on me, it would be nearly impossible to stop touching him.

“Early,” Stephan said. “Dylan’s still asleep. Might be for a little while, too.”

I grinned. “What are you suggesting?”

“I need a shower,” he said. “And you do, too.”

“Are you saying I stink?” I teased, then wriggled closer and pushed him onto his back. I was suddenly wide awake, straddling his hips and grinning down playfully at him. “Is that what this is about?”

“Definitely,” he said. He slid his hands up and down my thighs. His firm grip ran over the fingertip-shaped bruises there, reminding me of how easily he’d picked me up last night. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I laughed and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. It was a slow, passionate kiss, but not anticipatory. It was nice to simply kiss him.

We had a lot of time to make up for.

After a few minutes of lazy kissing, Stephan raked his hand through my hair, then flipped me onto my back. “Shower,” he said.

“Fine, fine.” I climbed out of bed on slightly shaky legs and followed him into the bedroom’s en suite. It was just as luxurious as the bedroom, with dark, pristine tile and a huge glass-doored shower with a rainstorm showerhead.

He turned the hot water on, and steam filled the bathroom. We stood under the water together, and I closed my eyes, leaning against his body as the hot water soothed the wonderful ache in my muscles.

Stephan worked woodsy-smelling soap over my shoulders and upper arms. His slow, sensual touch made my brain, still sleepy and kind of post-orgasmic, power down. That was all that could explain why I said what I said next.

“You remember when we first met?” I asked.

Stephan’s hands stilled briefly before he continued washing my back. “No, I totally forgot. We’ve met before?”

I laughed and elbowed him gently. “No, I mean… You remember that clearing by the lake?”

“Mm. Where we had that picnic? And that little sunset romp?”

I shivered a little. “Mm-hmm. It’s been on my mind…”

He leaned down and kissed my neck. “Oh?”

“I thought maybe I had misremembered over the years… That maybe it wasn’t as good as it was in my memory. Because when I remembered it, it was really damn good.”

Another soft kiss. “Yeah?”

“As good as last night.”

He turned me around and claimed my lips. “Is that what you were thinking about the other night? When I heard you touching yourself?”

Crap. Stupid dragon super-hearing.

I made a small, surprised sound and wriggled away from the kiss. Heat burned through me, half-arousal and half-embarrassment. “That’s none of your business!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said with a pleased grin.

We managed to get cleaned up, with only a few breaks for heated kisses and lingering touches. Afterward, I wrapped a dark, plush robe around myself—everything in his room was so dark—and padded back out into the bedroom. I fished my phone out from the pocket of my sweatpants and frowned at the lock screen.

“What is it?” Stephan asked as he tugged on a clean pair of jeans. “Someone bothering you?”

“Not exactly. It’s my mother.”

“I take it you haven’t heard from Liz in a while,” he said carefully.

I nodded. “We haven’t spoken since we last fought.” That wasn’t unusual for us. Ever since I was a teenager, Mom and I had a rhythm of cordial relationship, major fight, silent treatment, quasi-apology. Rinse and repeat. It made sense when I was a teenager, but now as a grown woman with a kid of my own, I found it exhausting. Why couldn’t she be a reasonable adult?