“Very funny.” As if she would be the one initiating that. “Okay, give me a couple of minutes, then come in.”

She picked up her duffel and walked into the bedroom. After closing the door behind her, she moved around the bed without looking at it then went into the bathroom.

Once there, she wasn’t sure how to prepare. She brushed her teeth, then changed into a simple cotton nightgown. The only one she had. She was more of a T-shirt over panties kind of sleeper.

She agonized over her underwear then figured that leaving them on was wishful thinking on her part. She tucked them under her other clothes then returned to the bedroom. After folding down the covers, she stretched out on one side of the bed and rested her head on the pillow.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened. Kipling walked in and paused to look at her. One eyebrow rose.

“Ready to make the ultimate sacrifice?” he asked.

She couldn’t quite read the tone in his voice. Humor, maybe. Although she couldn’t figure out why he thought this was funny.

She nodded. “I am.”

He moved toward the bed. He’d taken off his shoes and socks but left on the rest of his clothes. Which was nice. Seeing him naked would have been jarring.

His dark blue eyes locked onto her face. She noticed he needed a haircut, but that he’d shaved recently. Probably for the wedding, she thought. He was the kind of man who would shave for his wedding.

He got in on his side and moved toward the middle. After patting the center of the big bed, he waited until she slid a little closer.

She’d thought he might say something or maybe simply get on top of her and do his thing. Instead, he brushed his fingers across her cheek before gently kissing her.

The feel of his lips on hers was both familiar and arousing. She knew about the kissing—liked it, in fact. So it was easy to close her eyes and relax. His mouth moved against hers. Back and forth. He settled one hand on her waist, which momentarily distracted her, but when he didn’t move it, she could focus on the kissing again.

The room was quiet, the bed comfortable. They were alone, and no one would be bothering them. Not that she was looking forward to what they were doing. Only she couldn’t help thinking about having his hands on her breasts. That was the part she liked.

His tongue brushed against her lower lip. She parted to let him in then sighed when she felt the first quivery spark ignite in her belly. She wrapped both arms around him, resting her hands on his back. He was broad and strong, she thought absently. Masculine. He would always keep her safe.

Their tongues danced and teased, touching, retreating, stroking. Her breasts began to ache, and she felt her nipples straining against the fabric of her nightgown.

Kipling shifted slightly, moving to kiss along her jaw then down her neck. He brushed his lips against her collarbone then dipped lower to the scooped neckline of her nightgown, but didn’t go beyond the fabric. The hand on her waist stayed exactly where it was. He returned his attention to her mouth and kissed her again.

She rolled toward him as she ran her fingers up and down his back. The kiss deepened. With every stroke of his tongue against hers, she felt herself melting. At the same time a particular tension emanated from various points on her body. Her breasts, which ached more each second, and between her thighs. There was an odd heaviness. An almost pulsing.

Images filled her mind. Of how he’d touched her before. Of him pushing inside her. She wanted that again, she thought hazily. She’d said she would do the sex thing, so why was he taking so long?

He broke free for a second time and kissed his way down her neck. This time he moved past the edge of the nightgown. He hovered over her breasts for a heartbeat, then two. Anticipation filled her, making her want to grab him by the shoulders and pull him down.

At last he lowered his head and took her right nipple into his mouth.

She exhaled sharply as she felt the warm, moist heat of his mouth envelop her through the thin cotton. His tongue swirled against her tight, sensitive skin. Nerve endings danced with joy and sent ribbons of heat shimmering down to her belly.

She was still in her nightgown, but the gauzy fabric didn’t get in the way at all. She felt the flick of his tongue then pulsing pleasure when he sucked, the coolness of the air on the damp material as he shifted to her other breast.

She wasn’t sure how long he went between them. First one then the other. When his mouth was on one breast, his hand was on the other. She learned there was a difference between what he could do with his tongue and his fingers, but both were very, very nice.

At some point she’d rolled onto her back, although she couldn’t say when. She’d moved her hands from his back to his shoulders and head. She trailed her fingers through his hair, and when he sucked a nipple in deeply, she groaned and dug into his shoulders.

The room had become very warm. She stirred restlessly, feeling the need for something more. She moved her legs against the sheet, squeezed her thighs together, but nothing helped. Relaxed muscles tensed, although she wasn’t sure why.

Kipling moved on the bed. She opened her eyes and saw he was removing his white long-sleeved shirt. She watched greedily, wanting to see his chest. He tossed the shirt away and, without thinking, she put his hands on the sculpted muscles.

His skin was warm and smooth. She saw his nipples were slightly raised.

“Does it feel the same?” she asked as she brushed her fingers against one of them.

He grinned. “I don’t know how it feels for you, but I like it.”