SIX

      Sunshine drew him backwards into the apartment. Kiss unbroken.

      Leo slammed the door with his heel. Kiss unbroken.

      Sex—just sex, Sunshine said to herself.

      Leo pulled back as though she’d voiced the thought, looking at her with eyes smouldering like a hungry lion’s.

      Sunshine grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom. Kissed him again as she flipped the light switch and the fairy’s lair lights she’d had embedded in the ceiling winked to life.

      He angled her so he could kiss her harder, harder. He started to shake—she could feel it—and he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. He rested his cheek on the top of her head as he held her in his arms, his freight train heartbeat beneath her ear.

      She heard him laugh softly and pulled back, watching as he took in the room.

      It was pink. Every shade of pink from pale petal, to vibrant sari, to raspberry. The walls were the colour of cherry blossoms, stencilled in white in a riot of floral shapes and curlicues—like an extended henna tattoo. There was a chaise-longue, footstools, a window seat curtained off with diaphanous drapes. At one end of the room was a half-wall that divided the bedroom from the dressing room, with its orderly arrangement of garments, shoes, and bags, which in turn led through to her bathroom.

      A scene was painted on the dividing wall: a woman donning a flowing deep rose robe. Sunshine had made it a 3D work of art, building an actual Louis XIV gilded dressing table and mirror into the scene.

      There was a lot to look at.

      Leo moved towards the bed, which was king-sized, shrouded by fuchsia hangings and piled high with cushions in macaroon pastels. He touched the gauzy curtains.

      ‘Seriously, Sunshine?’ he asked, a smile in his voice.

      Sunshine arched an eyebrow. ‘If you want to get laid tonight, I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head.’

      ‘That’s not where my tongue wants to be.’

      Those words made her toes curl.

      ‘Come here, let me undress you, and we’ll find some place to put it,’ Leo said softly.

      Sunshine walked over to him, her heart jumping.

      His hands reached for the obi.

      ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I need to warn you—I’m...scarred.’

      He waited, hands at her waist.

      ‘The accident. I have a...a scar. Two, actually. Not...small.’ She hunched a shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I don’t want you to be shocked.’

      His response was to slowly, slowly unwrap the obi from around her waist, then the under-sash. The kimono fell open and Leo sucked in an audible breath.

      ‘My God,’ he said, in a voice just above a raspy whisper.

      ‘I know—they’re awful.’

      Leo’s fingers reached, traced along the incision marks. He shook his head. ‘The My God wasn’t about the scars, Sunshine.’

      Sunshine was having trouble catching a thought, her breath. ‘Then...what?’

      ‘My God, you are so beautiful. And my God, I am itching to put my hands all over you.’

      ‘Then do it,’ she whispered. ‘I have no intention of stopping you.’

      His fingers tensed against her flesh. And then, with both hands, he reached for her shoulders, sliding his hands under the kimono, pushing it back until the heavy fabric dropped with a quiet whoosh to the floor. He stood gazing at her.

      Sunshine kept absolutely still, watching him as his nostrils flared, his hands fisted at his sides. It was both torture and delight to stand motionless as lust shimmered between them. Leo was still fully clothed, and that somehow made her feel more wanton, sexier. Her nipples were hardened points; she could feel them throbbing. Could feel a swelling between her legs as his gaze moved over her. Down, up, down. The suspense was almost unbearable. And yet she wanted the delay. Wanted to draw things out. Slow everything down so that she could wallow in this overwhelming need caused by nothing more than his eyes on her.

      Then both his hands moved. With the tips of his trembling fingers he touched the centre of her forehead. Slowly his fingers moved to the bridge of her nose, across her eyebrows, down her cheeks to her mouth, her jaw, neck, collarbones. When he got to her breasts he paused at her nipples to circle and pinch. Her knees almost buckled. But inexorably his hands moved again, fingers sliding across the long, straight scar that ran over her ribs, down to her hips, across her belly, then to the juncture of her thighs.

      He stopped there. Looked intently at her bare mound, licked his lips. ‘Very, very pretty,’ he said.

      Both hands slid between her legs, fingers playing there while her breathing quickened.

      ‘I think we’ve found a place for my tongue,’ he said, suddenly finding that one excruciatingly sensitive nub, focusing there.

      ‘Are you going to take off your clothes?’ Sunshine asked breathily as his fingers continued to tease her.

      ‘Yes. But first...’

      His fingers shifted, exploring her, dipping and sliding and slipping, but always returning to that one tiny place. Sunshine gasped again. Her legs were trembling as he continued to work her, pinching, stroking, rolling, lunging into her.

      ‘Ah, Leo— God!’ Sunshine cried out, and came suddenly, with a long groan.

      Her head dropped back as his fingers continued to caress her, soothing now, and then one hand cupped her possessively, stilled.

      Easing away from her, he started removing his clothes with short, efficient movements. The leather