Really. His arched brow got him nothing more than the wicked, pleased curve of her lips. Especially when he shifted to settle more above her, when he arranged his arms to slide beneath her and pull her close. Yes, she could have kept all of this in their trailer – but where was the fun in that? The chase, however brief and lighthearted, seemed to have lifted some of the weight off his shoulders. And Letha had a good idea of how to take care of the rest.
"No," she agreed, her lips moving against his as they hovered close, his hand over hers. "You're written in my stars, Marco. And you're stuck with me in yours." Having this side of him, this sweet part of him, all to herself was such a heady thing. Letha had always longed to be the one that he was exchanging endearments with, but the fantasy couldn't hold a candle to the reality. It was probably silly that he should make her pulse race so easily, but there was no denying it.
Humming against his lips when they sought hers, the witch wound herself around him – not rushing, but steadily pulling closer. Until he was inside her, moving up against her bare skin, he was too far.