“I want you.” Christy breathed the words against this lips and Lawrence shivered deliciously. “I want you here, in front of the fire, on the rug.” He kissed him again, “Naked.”
Lawrence almost spilled in his breeches.
“I’d never get down there, not with my leg,” he said, but his voice was breathy.
Christy let go of him and, never dropping Lawrence’s gaze, dragged the crocheted blanket from the backof the chair and threw it onto the rug in front of the range, then threw down the cushions and looked at him enquiringly.
“Do you want to?”
Lawrence licked his lips. Did he want to? Did he want to make love with Christy?
He nodded.