And then she bit his lip in her passion, right where Mad Dog had split it, and he broke away with a curse, the pain slicing through his arousal. “Shit.”
“Oh.” Clea covered her mouth, failing to hide her laughter. “Oh Danny, I’m sorry!”
He couldn’t help but grin, hearing her laugh like that. He licked his lip, tasting blood. “Liar.”
“Poor baby.” She touched the wound with gentle fingertips. “Need it kissing better?”
“Not if that’s how you kiss these days.”
Her laughter grew wilder, and it was just as warming and sexy as the kiss had been. That he could still make her laugh, with everything between them, made him hopeful.