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It was the sensation of her toes being licked that shook Grace out of postcoital lethargy. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking for a moment in confusion until she realized she was looking at Ben’s left nipple. She frowned—if she was lying on his chest, he couldn’t be licking her toes, so who…?
“Agh!” She was up like a shot, scrambling as far up the bed as she could until she was practically molded to the headboard.
“What, what’s wrong?” Ben had sat straight up when she moved and was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.
She pointed at the foot of the bed where Lou was resting his face against the mattress, looking pitiful and unloved. “He was licking my toes!”
Ben grinned at her. “He likes you.” “I don’t care, he can’t lick my toes!”
He was laughing now as he grabbed hold of her ankle and dragged her back down into his arms. “Why not? It’s not like you’re going to eat with your feet.”
She frowned as she snuggled back into his chest, keeping a wary eye on Lou and her feet tucked close to Ben’s legs. “It’s creepy, is all.”
“Why?”
She shrugged then said sheepishly, “Because I kind of liked it.”
Ben roared with laughter, dodging her as she poked and pinched him in retaliation.
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