Sitting up, he stroked his hands down her soft belly, tweaking her nipples until they hardened into peaks and she let out a soft gasp. Her hips bucked...when he petted her soft curls and he wanted to smile. His cheer faded when he touched her dry flesh.This wouldn’t do at all. He wanted the wild wanton who had ridden him to completion all those months ago. Remembering the lessons he’d gotten from an Italian whore when he’d been a stripling lad in Boston, he lowered himself between her legs and. He took one of the candles and led the way. Anita grabbed a second and followed.Once in their room, John directed his wife to the bed. “Go to sleep,” he said, and went into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stripped his borrowed clothes off. He took a short but hot shower and went back to the bedroom.Anita wasn’t asleep under the covers, not by a long shot. Her brief nap had given her a second wind, and she was looking forward to rewarding the hero. Disdaining Caroline’s loaned. More

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