Anna Saylor sighed with delight in her king-sized bed as she stretched her arms above her head and slid her toes down to the bottom of the cool, white sheets. The rising sun brightened the plantation shutters over the windows, and birds sang merrily outside, but she snuggled back into her pillow.

Ah, Saturday. The most wonderful day of the week. It was even more wonderful on a three-day Memorial Day weekend.

Her spring recitals were finally over. Though she was thankful her dance school was doing so well, she could definitely use the summer off to let her tired body recover. And to let her ears recover from classes of enthusiastic beginning tappers.

She turned lazily to her side, pushed her long hair behind her ear, and studied her husband, Grey, as he lay next to her. His short, golden hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes still closed. Deep, even breaths lifted his muscular torso, bared to the waist by the sheets. His arms were flung out to his sides, and Anna shifted until she lay half-draped upon his hard body, her head resting on his biceps.

He stirred, and she glanced up into his sky-colored eyes.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she murmured.

“Morning.” Grey looked back at her with a sleepy grin.

Anna’s heart thumped happily, and she snuggled more deeply against her husband. “I’m glad we get to spend this weekend together. We’ve been so busy lately, I feel like I hardly see you.”

“I know.” He brought his hand up and stroked her hair as he dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.

She ran her hand slowly across his hard chest, purposefully grazing one small, flat nipple, which hardened at her touch. She loved how his body always responded to hers. “Thank goodness recitals are over with.”

“They were awesome,” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “All five shows.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” She tickled his side, and he flinched.

“Hey, none of that now.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I should get serious props for all the flowers I gave you after every damn curtain call.”

“Props given. Thank you. You are an awesome husband.”

“You bet your ass, I am. That was some serious romantic shit there, babe.”

“You are an amazing guy, no argument.” And he was. It was why she had married him, after all. He was funny, and sexy, and supportive, and romantic. But since he’d been working with a different construction crew, she had seen one change in him she didn’t like at all. She frowned and poked him teasingly in the chin with her index finger. “You know, you’ve developed a serious potty mouth since you started this new job.”

He frowned down at her. “I have not.”

“Oh, yeah?” She raised one eyebrow. “I bet you can’t go even an hour without cursing.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “Bet I can.”

That dimple in his left cheek that she found so sexy gave her a deliciously wicked idea, and she grinned. Grey’s competitive nature alternately amused and incensed her. He never turned down a bet. In fact, a bet was how they’d ended up married. Today she decided to use his competitiveness to her advantage. To her full advantage. “Care to make a friendly wager on it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Name the terms.”

“Every time you curse today, you have to make me orgasm, but without having an orgasm yourself. Dirty sex talk doesn’t count, just plain cursing. As they say, you’ll put your money where your mouth is.” She smirked. “Figuratively and literally.”

He smirked back. “What about when I win?”