“That’s blasphemous,” I say, even though I found it witty enough to press my lips together to keep from laughing.
He considers me for a moment. “You’re right. I seriously doubt the Blessed Virgin Mary enjoyed the occasional naked swim.”
I grab a pillow and throw it at him. “Sometimes, I think you enjoy violating every sin in the book, just for the fun of it.”
“Muchas gracias.” He laughs and catches it, plumping it up before laying it on top of the pillows on his side.
I twist my lips, realizing I now only have one pillow on my side. Hell, if I’m going to ask for it back now, even though Enrique’s eyes practically dare me to.
“If you’re worried about my eternal soul, Leira, don’t be. I look forward to my place in hell with the rest of the sinners. They seem to have all the fun.” He flicks back the covers, obviously intending to sleep underneath them. “Besides, I doubt there’s too much skinny dipping in heaven.”
“Enjoy your eternal sulfur and brimstone showers,” I say, just to get the last word in as he slips underneath his side of the covers. How the hell did we even get down this path?
I smooth the bedspread back down again to lie on top, eyeing him with a warning look as I do. He just grins, but thankfully he remains in place.
I lie on my back, my head resting on my one pillow, and try to fall asleep. I’m annoyed to find that I’d rather be under the covers, preferably with two pillows.
Being chaste has its drawbacks.
Then again, considering how exposed I am from the hips down in this shirt, maybe I should have stayed under the covers.
“Que sueñes con los angelitos,” Enrique says before turning off the lamp on his side of the bed. I can practically hear the taunt in his voice.
I don’t bother replying before turning off mine.
I’m not sure if what he’s said should be interpreted literally or if it’s some quippy Spanish phrase for “sweet dreams.” However you translate it, I know that with him in the bed next to me, it certainly isn’t going to be angels who are occupying my dreams tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Nine Enrique
I’m drowning in a tangle of seaweed.
My eyes snap open, waking from the dream. For some reason, my face still feels like it’s entangled in seaweed. I spit out the strand that has fallen into my mouth and blink away the twists that obscure my sight.
Leira. Dammit.
My hand comes up to rake the rest of her heavy tangle of curls from my face. I squint in the dim light of the morning and turn to face her, only to be met with the full force of that hair.
Somehow she’s managed to wriggle her way across the entirety of the bed and curl her backside into my body hidden underneath the covers. In fact, I’m teetering so close to the edge of the bed, one wrong move and I’ll be on the floor.
How the hell did she manage that?
I nudge her from beneath the covers, and her only reaction is to moan slightly in her sleep and curl up into an even tighter ball. That causes the shirt to rise enough to fully expose her white underwear.
That snaps me out of my irritation. There’s something to be said for “forcing” her to sleep on top of the covers.
I pull one arm free of the bedspread and sheets and reach one finger out to trace the skin along the edge of one leg hole. It’s still as smooth as that first touch of it yesterday.
Leira doesn’t so much as stir. If anything, the light snoring only becomes more even and steady.
I smirk and continue running my finger along her skin until I reach the spot where her thighs are clamped together. I don’t bother stopping there, instead, working my way up to the fabric of her underwear, following the indentation where her ass cheeks come together. My finger trips right over the waistband, back to that sea of smooth skin along her back. I continue along her spine, even when I’m finally met with the edge of the shirt, simply pushing it up as far as it will go.
At some point, it obviously begins to tickle her because she moans again and kicks her feet for some reason. Her legs come to rest at a bent position with her bare feet against her butt.
I bite back a laugh as I bring my finger along the sole of one foot, knowing what’s coming.
She snaps out of her sleep with a yelp and a fierce kick, probably leaving a good bruise against my thigh even through the bedspread. My hand inadvertently lands right back on her ass again, this time with my palm open.
“What the hell?” she yells, twisting her head around to confront me, which gives me a nice whiplash of hair to the face.
Obviously feeling my hand cupping her ass, she scoots up into a sitting position.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I grin and bring both arms up to cross underneath my head.
“Don’t worry. Aún eres una virgen,” I say with a grin, assuring her of the fact that she is still very much a virgin.
“Not if I hadn’t woken up when I did!” she snaps, pushing me.
That’s enough to tip me over the edge of the bed, and I roar in surprise and anger as my head hits the nightstand with a loud “thonk!” on the way down.
“Oh my God!” she yelps, leaning over the side to stare down at me as I recover on the floor. “Are you okay?”
The throbbing in the back of my skull is enough to evaporate my earlier amusement. Leira is firmly back to being La Diabla.
Then again, I have only myself to blame.
“I’m fine,” I growl, touching the
