I laughed at the “jazz” double entendre. “I should have known. The chandelier button was dusty.” Leaning my head against the headrest, I said, “T hope I didn’t interrupt any of your plans to destroy the idea of world peace forever.” I squealed like a girl when he grabbed my ankle and yanked me down the bed. “I think that was exactly your plan,” he countered, bracing his hands on either side of my head. “Or was I boring you?” I vibrated beneath his closeness, his body heat finding its way under my skin. When I licked my lips in anticipation, his gaze followed the movement. Breathlessly, I nodded. Then his mouth touched mine so softly my chest ached. So softly, it wasn’t a kiss at all. It was all the words that could never be said. His lips left mine, the air so heavy and thick it put pressure on the backs of my eyes. To hide my reaction, I forced, “I hope one of those buttons didn’t launch a rocket to destroy the moon.” A smile touched his lips as he pulled back to stand at the foot of the bed. “I guess you’|l have to wait and see.” “Without the moon, we might experience an ice age.” “And you don’t wear pants, so we can’t have that.” He grabbed my ankle, nipped my instep, then sucked my big toe. I exhaled, bizarrely growing hot everywhere, and pushed his cheek away with my foot. He chuckled. “Dresses are appropriate forms of clothing,” I returned. “On you, I disagree.” He kissed and bit a path up my leg, and I moaned when he reached the inside of my thigh. My clit pulsed in anticipation, but what I wanted had nothing to do with his mouth between my legs—and not because of what he told me of his past; because time was limited with this man. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his lips to mine, barely skimming but burning nonetheless. “Does the bed rotate too?” I asked. “Unfortunately, no,” he returned with humor, then his voice turned raspy. “But it does rock.” The rest of the day passed with sex and food and Russian sitcoms. And it was easily my favorite happily-for-now yet.