Rooted (Pagano Family #3)(30)

oOo



A while later, as they were lying quietly, tangled together, recovering, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Before Theo could respond, Jordan called from the other side, “If anybody’s hungry, I’ve been to la patisserie! And I’m off to make coffee!”

He added two more perky little raps, and then they heard him walk away.

“You hungry?” Theo combed his fingers through Carmen’s hair.

“I could eat. Not sure how I feel about a breakfast of shame, though.”

His hand stopped. “Don’t think of it like that. Are you ashamed?”

She raised up on her elbow and looked steadily at him. “No. But that’s your kid. And…it’s weird. Right?”

“Carmen. The only thing weird about how Jordan feels about you and me is his unbridled excitement. There’s no chance that he’ll be judging us.” He smiled. “I mean, he bought us baked goods.”

She laughed, mentally slapping herself for that moment of self-doubt, and slid out of bed. “Okay, then.” As Theo stood, too, she stared at last night’s clothes, wadded on a large damask wing chair. “God, the thought of putting that dress back on. Ugh.”

Theo walked over to her, holding out his white dress shirt from the night before. “It’s a brilliant dress. But wear this instead.”

Cocking her eyebrow at him, she turned and let him slide his shirt on. As it came up over her shoulders, she was enveloped in his scent, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor. But as she began to button it, she noticed that the tail skimmed only a few inches below her ass. She turned back to him and found him staring hungrily at her, looking like it might be a while before she got coffee and pastry. She took a step back.

“Christ. You wear that a thousand times better than I do.”

“I’m glad you like it. But I can’t go out where anyone else can see me in this.”

Theo nodded and went to a tall antique chest. From a drawer, he pulled out a pair of black sweatpants and tossed them to her. “How’s that?”

She pulled them on and tightened the drawstring. “These’ll do fine. Thanks.” When she looked up, the fire in his eyes was even hotter. “What?”

“You’re wearing my clothes, and you’re not wearing underwear. If we’re done for the morning, I’m gonna need a minute.”

She could tell. Carmen laughed, feeling pleased and lighthearted. “You are a lech. Okay, well, I’m going to use the bathroom. Take your minute.” As she walked past him, she lifted onto her toes and kissed his cheek. She liked that he was tall enough that she needed tiptoes. She tapped his erect cock. “Easy there, pardner.”

He swatted her ass when she moved on.

The bathroom, like the rest of the apartment, was opulent and huge. Shaking her head at the excesses of the extravagantly wealthy, she stood before the mirror over one of the sinks. The first thing she saw, to her horror and embarrassment, was that her eye makeup seemed to have melted all over her face. The term ‘raccoon eyes’ didn’t begin to cover it. She wore makeup rarely, and never to the extent that Rosa had done her up last night, and she had a tendency to forget and wipe at her eyes. Clearly, she’d done so repeatedly last night, or this morning. She had eyeliner on her damn cheeks. Just f*ck.

But Theo had made no indication whatsoever that she’d looked like she’d just come off a football field. He’d seemed only dazzled with her. Maybe she’d bewitched him into blindness.

She turned the water on and scrubbed her face until there was no trace left of Rosa’s elaborate, and completely ruined, handiwork. She thought she might have lost a layer or two of skin in the bargain, but that was a fair price.

That crisis handled—note to her future self, she and makeup were a bad mix—her eyes finally moved to her neck. Well, wow. The entire right side of her neck, from her jaw to her collarbone, was red and purple. That wasn’t a hickey. That was a mauling. She unbuttoned his shirt and took a look at the other sore spots. Her breasts were similarly bruised. She slid his sweatpants down—her thighs, too.

She laughed. Well, she’d wanted a Rough Rider. Damn.

And she wouldn’t change anything—though she was now wondering exactly how she’d get around for the next several days without making a spectacle of herself. Maybe Rosa had some kind of magic concealer or something.

A knock on the door, and Theo’s voice: “Hey. You okay?”

She pulled the pants back up. “Yeah. Just assessing the damage. You can come in.”

He opened the door, wearing nothing but extremely well-fitting jeans. Yeah, she wouldn’t change a damn thing.

His shirt was still open, and he walked up to her now and spread it wide, his hands gripping the sides of the placket. “Oh, shit. Carmen, I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

What surprised her more than that statement was the power of the pleasure it gave her. Something that he’d never done before, something he shared only with her. The thrill of that scared her. Trouble. He was trouble. She turned that thought off—it didn’t matter if he was trouble. She was doing the thing that felt good, right or not. She’d deal with the consequences when they arrived.

She put her hands over his. “No? Well, you’re a natural, then. And it’s fine. I love the way you f*ck.”