“I don’t have to do anything,” she reminded him gently. “But I want you to come.”

And she took his hand in hers and began to use their twined hands to drag her sleep shirt up her stomach.

He groaned and sat up over her, still between her legs. She could make out his big form rising over hers in the bed, and she moaned when he fisted a handful of her top and jerked it up to her breasts.

His fingers trailed down her bare stomach and he groaned in response, his breathing becoming jerky. “You can still back out,” he warned her, rasping.

“Don’t you want to come on me?” she asked him softly.

He groaned again, and his hand pushed under her clothing, grasping her naked breast. Maylee whimpered in surprise, especially when his fingers roughly began to pluck at her nipple. “Damn. So beautiful.” His voice was a near growl. “So . . . damn . . . beautiful.”

Hot, liquid heat spattered on her stomach, even as he groaned her name.

Maylee lay back, stunned by the eroticism of it. Why was it that what was supposed to be a quick dry-hump had turned into one of the most erotic sexual moments of her life?

Panting, Griffin’s hand moved to her belly and traced around the cum he’d left there. “I should have left the lights on.”

She touched her stomach, uncertain. “Did you get it everywhere? Should I get a towel?”

He chuckled. “No, I just wanted to see you under me, covered in my cum. It’s a primal male thing, I suppose.” He bent down over her and gave her mouth a hard kiss. “And I’ll get the towel.”

The bed creaked as he jumped off, and across the room, a light flicked on. Illuminated by the bathroom light was Griffin’s gloriously naked backside, all tight muscle and corded, thick thighs. Oh, mercy. Wasn’t that a delicious sight. Maylee felt herself getting aroused all over again, and she blinked with disappointment when the lights went out once more, leaving her in darkness.

Then, Griffin was back in the bed, gently wiping down her stomach and tugging at her pajamas. “You should probably take these off. They’ll need a good cleaning. You can sleep in one of my shirts.”

“Oh. I’m sure I have something else I can sleep in—”

“No,” he said firmly. “I like seeing you in my shirt. Humor me.”

She blushed at that. “All right, Mr. Gri—um, Griff.”

When he got up to get rid of the towel, he returned with a soft T-shirt for her to wear and pressed it into her hand. “Need some help undressing?”

“I think I can manage,” she said in a wry, breathless voice. She quickly stripped out of her clothing and tugged on the shirt, mindful of the noises he made as he moved to the other side of the bed. When she pulled the shirt down, her bottom hung out the other side, and she didn’t have any spare panties with her. “Um. Do you have some boxers?”

He chuckled. “If you insist, though I’m a little disappointed that I don’t get the pleasure of having you snuggled up against me all night, bare-assed.”

“Boxers,” she said again, primly.

A moment later, more soft material touched her hand, and she realized he’d had them all along. “You are shamelessly wicked, Griffin Verdi,” she chided him as she wriggled into his boxers. They were a little tight in the ass, as she had more junk in her trunk than he did.

Once that was taken care of, she lay back in the bed and adjusted her pillow. What did they do now? Kiss goodnight and roll over onto their separate sides?

Griffin solved that problem for her. As soon as she lay back, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him, his hips curving against hers. Aha. He was a spooner. Griffin nuzzled her neck as he settled her against him. “This is much better than the pillow fort, don’t you think?”

His words tickled her ear. “It’s definitely more intimate. I hope you don’t snore tonight.”

“I never snore,” he said in that haughty voice. “You, on the other hand, could put a train to shame.”

She snorted. “Now I know you’re lying. I’m a Southern girl. We don’t snore, and we don’t cuss.”

“Mmmhmm. Southern girls are clearly out of touch with reality.”

She tickled his sides before he grabbed her hands and tucked them into his grasp. Then she cuddled against his chest, his mouth teasing her neck, Maylee somehow drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Griffin woke up with a raging hard-on, wild white-blonde curls tickling his nose, and an urge to spend the day in bed.

He sat up and reached over the woman clinging to his front to flick off his alarm, and noticed with amusement that Maylee didn’t even stir. Well, actually, all she did was burrow deeper against his chest, increasing his morning wood problem.

Damn, but he’d liked last night.

He stroked a hand over her out-of-control curls, admiring the way they fluffed and made her look thoroughly, adorably fucked. So they’d had a pajama barrier. He couldn’t deny that fooling around with Maylee had been the best thing to happen to him in a long time. And for the first time, he was rather grateful for the royal wedding and Kip’s inconvenient chicken pox.

Leaning down, he kissed her cheekbone. “Maylee, darling, wake up.”

She mumbled something about feeding the hounds and flicked a hand at her cheek as if brushing away a mosquito.

That was . . . charming. With a grin to himself, Griffin reluctantly released her and made his way to the bathroom. He’d shower and then wake her up when he got back.

He undressed and examined himself in the mirror. He was smiling like a loon. No, he realized, like Reese did whenever someone mentioned Audrey. He normally just rolled his eyes at that dopey, lovesick smile on Reese’s face and figured Audrey could do amazing stunts in bed.

But Maylee hadn’t done amazing stunts. She’d simply been herself—excited, breathless, and wild with need—and he’d thought it was the most erotic thing ever.

Just thinking about her made his dick twitch, and he took himself in hand as he got into the shower, turning the water on. There were small red scratches on his shoulders from her nails, and that made his cock ache all the more. He poured a bit of conditioner on his hand, flattened a palm against the tile, and jerked off, imagining her kneeling before him and burying his hands in those wild blonde curls as he fucked her mouth.

When he finally got out of the shower some time later, Griffin wrapped a towel around his hips and emerged from the bathroom to see Maylee sitting on the end of the bed, blinking sleepily, her hair nearly standing on end.

“You didn’t wake me up,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

He moved to her side and leaned down to kiss those crazy, springy curls he was coming to love. “You seemed tired. I thought I’d let you sleep a few minutes more.”

Her cheeks flushed red at that, and she jumped up from the bed. “I should go get dressed so we’re not late for breakfast.”

As she hurried away, he admired the way her ass filled out his boxers. He was going to hide those godawful camouflage pajamas so she’d have no choice but to sleep in his clothing. He liked the look of that quite a bit. She looked like she completely belonged to him.

As she should, he decided.

Griffin dressed, throwing down a few ties to let her pick out one for him. She returned to his room a short time later, those delicious curls tamped down into a tight bun and her even more delicious body encased in a shapeless, demure skirted suit that he was pretty sure he’d seen the princess’s mother wear once. It made her look at least ten years older than she was. He frowned. He’d turned his delicious, tousled Maylee into this frumpy creature.

But she sailed over to him with a beaming smile, plucked a tie from the pile he left for her, and crooked her finger, and he forgot all about anything except that sexy little gesture.

“One of these days,” she teased as she looped the tie around his neck, “I’m going to show you how to tie your own tie. They have tutorials on YouTube, you know. Very informative. And they go real slow so you can follow along.”

“Lovely,” he murmured.

“And just think of how independent you’ll be.”

“Independence is overrated if it means I lose out on your putting your hands on me,” he said boldly, and was rewarded with her blush and a happy giggle.

“There,” she said with a final tug on his tie. “All done. Now come on. We have to eat a quick breakfast today because your schedule is full.”

He sighed. “I don’t see how it can possibly be full. The wedding is in two days and I swear I’ve visited every dignitary, museum, and charity group in all of Bellissime at this point.”

She laughed and gave him a saucy look. “I didn’t make your schedule, Griff. I just manage it.”

True. He could blame Kip for that.

They put the emeralds back in their velvet box, stopped downstairs to lock them up in a secure safe in the manager’s office, and then continued on to breakfast. They’d barely sat down before Maylee opened the computer and began to type, a look of concentration on her face. “We should ask the kitchen for a couple of sandwiches before we go,” she told him absently. “It’s going to be one of those days.”

He crossed his arms as a waiter put a cup of coffee in front of him, frowning. Damn it. The last thing he wanted was “one of those days.” He wanted a day of relaxation. A day of spending time with Maylee and seeing that beaming smile of hers again. He wanted to see her face light up like it had when she’d bought those ugly, ridiculous souvenirs. He most certainly did not want to spend it listening to a charity or three describing how his money would be best spent by them.