High Energy by Joy, Dara (easy to read books for adults list .TXT) 📕

his head off the pillow. "Huh? Oh, the door—I'll get it."

His head flopped back down onto the pillow. "Just give me a minute." He burrowed

his arms back under the pillow, closing his eyes.

A disembodied chipper voice called through the door, "Room service!"

"Did you order room service?" She shook his shoulder. He blearily opened his

eyes. Glass-blue orbs tried to focus on her.

"What?" His vision cleared. He smiled. "Oh, yeah! I ordered breakfast in bed for

us last night." He threw back the covers, grabbing the terry robe on his way to

the door.

Zanita eyed his backside appreciatively from the bed. Pity he had to cover those

gorgeous buns, she thought.

Round. Smooth. Tight. Hard.

Just the way she liked them.

A real handful.

Tyber returned to the bed carrying a large wicker tray. His hair, as usual in

the morning, was in sexy disarray around his shoulders.

"What d'ya got?" she asked, eyeing the tray with interest and thinking it was a

very nice gesture on his part.

He placed the tray carefully on the bed, shucked his robe, and crawled back

inside beside her. His body was still sleep-warmed. "Let's see…" He brought the

tray across his lap.

"A little bottle of champagne, apple pancakes and maple syrup, some orange

juice"—he took a sip—"fresh-squeezed, a basket of cinnamon rolls, and what

appears to be homemade jam."

"Champagne for breakfast?"

"Of course." He uncorked the bottle with a pop. "Try it; it will do wonderful

things for you in the morning." He poured her out a flute.

She tasted it appreciatively. "It does! I think the bubbles are actually

invigorating!" She took another sip. "I think this could replace caffeine."

Tyber put a finger to his lips. "Shh. It'll be our secret." Zanita giggled.

Smiling, he leaned over to place a quick kiss on her lips.

"Here you go." He handed her a plate of pancakes.

"Thanks; they look delicious."

"Mmm." His long lashes lifted slowly, revealing a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

"Syrup?" The corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.

Tyber was teasing her with his "tunnel" allusion, reminding her of his "syrupy"

quivering walls. Zanita blushed to the roots of her hair.

"You are outrageous!"

A dimple curved his cheek. When he spoke, his voice was a husky drawl. "I do my

best for you, baby." He poured some syrup on her pancakes, ignoring her

gape-mouthed expression.

Zanita decided it was wise to ignore Tyber when he got into one of these moods

of his. She dug into her pancakes.

They were delicious, light and fluffy with chunks of fresh native apples. There

were worse things in this world than having a champagne breakfast in bed, she

decided. She leaned back against the pillows, closed her eyes, stretched her

toes under the blanket, and sighed.

"More?"

"I don't think I could." She patted her stomach.

"I'm not talking about the breakfast." The sultry purr came from somewhere to

her left. Her eyes snapped open.

He had removed the tray, placing it on the bedside table. And those ice eyes of

his were regarding her with a sharp heat, focusing strictly on her mouth.

Under his intense scrutiny, her lips tingled, parting slightly. His pupils

darkened and dilated.

It was difficult to form a cogent thought with him watching her like that. Her

breath caught in her throat. The man was sizzling! Without a doubt, he was the

sexiest male she had ever seen.

She attempted speech. "You're—you're not?"

"Well, I could be."

It took Zanita a moment to realize that he wasn't agreeing with her steamy

assessment of him, but answering her question. In any case, she didn't have time

to wonder about it because he lifted his hand, threading his fingers slowly

through the curls on the side of her face, immediately capturing her attention.

With his other hand, he idly reached over to the tray to dip his index finger in

a little pool of syrup left on one of the plates. His eyes never leaving her

full mouth, he diligently traced her lips with the syrupy finger, leaving the

sticky residue behind.

"Wh—what are you doing?"

This time he didn't answer her.

He just lowered his head to carefully lick the sticky syrup off her parted lips

with the tip of his swirling tongue. It was a sultry dalliance of playfulness

and demand.

"Tyber…" Zanita whispered his name against the brush of his velvet lips as they

feathered across hers.

Very lightly, in the barest of caresses, he skimmed the backs of his fingers

down the sides of her breasts, her waist, her hips. His flitting touch ignited

sparks of yearning as he seemed to barely dance over her satiny skin.

All the while, his fluid tongue teased at the corners of her mouth. He gently

probed her lower lip, laving across the seam.

Zanita lifted her mouth for his kiss, for the savory press of his mouth. When it

came, she nimbly caught the tip of his tongue between her lips and gently

suckled on him. He tasted deliciously of syrup and Tyber.

A thick sound issued low in his throat.

His uninhibited moan of desire resonated through her. There was a physics term

he had taught her… what had Tyber called it?

Synchronous vibration.

Yes, now she understood it very well as a matching pulse of longing throbbed

through her.

Tyber's beautiful mouth moved across her face, slowly, languorously.

Passionately. His hot kisses swept across her in a fiery burst of controlled

heat. A chaotic contradiction of the senses, he was somewhere between ambling

and deliberate.

He took her breath away.

He reached for the syrup dispenser.

While Zanita watched him, eyes passion-glazed, his thumb pressed back on the

spring mechanism, releasing a thin stream of the amber syrup. It slowly cascaded

down the center of her breasts in a meandering pattern, pooling in her navel

and, following the course of Tyber's direction, flowed down thick into the nest

of curls between her legs.

Before she had the presence of mind to wonder what he was doing, he came over

her.

His open mouth leisurely followed the trail of rich sap, consuming as he went

with sensual sweeps of his tongue.

Zanita lay back against the pillows and gave herself over to this mind-drugging

experience.

He scraped his tongue across the peak of one breast, letting her feel every tiny

bump on its syrup-coated surface as he slid across her extended nipple. Then he

caught just the tip between his teeth and tugged. She clutched his shoulders,

moaning at the sheer erotic pleasure of