Foreman snickered, getting breathless all over again from laughing. No, he didn't think Amber would say any such thing. Maybe he hadn't known her long, but he wasn't an idiot. He tugged her a little closer. Covering his bases. Just because he was resting up didn't mean he was going to relax his grip. No Mata Hari trick was going to work on him. "Hmm, maybe," he said. He nudged his nose behind her ear to breathe in her scent. No shower yet; she smelled warm, sleepy, and a little bit like his own sweat, from the hoodie she'd appropriated. "I did get jumped before I finished my breakfast."

He let out a slower breath, ignoring his own residual hunger for the moment. His plan had been to let her go and to get back to his meal with all possible dignity, so that she couldn't accuse him of losing; only of ending their little wrestling match while he was on top. But now that he was here, lying with her, he felt almost as good as he did after sex. Relaxed, content right down to his bones, and happy to curl close around her for as many moment as she'd let him. His voice was a little slower, more lazy, when he asked, "Did you just let your brothers go, after you sat on them?" After all, tactical tricks from the master would probably help him out.