Chapter 16 #3
I tried not to smile huge before I cleared my throat and asked, “Does this mean you’re not mad about the couch?”
“Didn’t say that.”
I swear, I saw his eyes grow darker, and I understood it was best to simply enjoy the fact that he had me naked on top of said couch, and that was enough for now.
“Right. Okay. About that date…”
“Dinner. I think it’s time you and I talk some things out.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. Though, as the fog of my orgasm began to fade, dinner felt a million years away—especially for one topic in particular.
“Like, um…no condom?”
He raised his head enough for me to clearly see his scowl when he replied, “You said you were on the pill.”
“I am. I also can’t remember the last time I was fucked without one.”
He was still inside of me; and as much as I didn’t want to, I couldn’t stop my brain from cycling through all the men I’d let between my legs.
Some I liked. Some I didn’t.
Some were generous. More were selfish.
I knew what it was to be a slut.
I wasn’t proud of the fact that I couldn’t name them all, but I was always careful.
Even the one Stallion I fell for had never come inside of me.
“Word is, you haven’t been around. I’m clean. Assumed you were, too.”
I felt the beginning of a blush at the base of my neck.
It was a lie—one I’d been hanging onto since I moved back home.
It was easier to be Carmy’s baby sister than to explain the whole truth.
Returning to Missoula was like hitting the reset button. Whatever assumptions people made, I didn’t go out of my way to correct them.
Is that why he calls me angel? Because he thinks I’m somehow pure wandering amongst the wild?
“Speak up, babe. We good?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, yeah, I’m clean,” I stammered.
Before I could say more, he replied, “Good. Cause the way I remember it, when I want to fuck, I got a wife for that. If you’re the only pussy gettin’ my dick, don’t see why I need to wrap it up.”
For a breath, I was stunned silent.
There was a promise in there.
A vow from a husband to his wife.
It was silly to get my hopes up, but I did it anyway.
There was so much undiscovered between us. What we didn’t know about the other could break the us barely tied together with wedding bands and secrets. But we were here. Together. Naked on our brand-new couch.
Afraid of the fragility of what was developing between us, not wanting to screw it all up before it could turn into something real, I merely nodded my agreement before steering us in another direction.
“I don’t normally see you in the mornings. Do you ever sleep in?”
“No,” he declared matter-of-factly.
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to make sense of the man.
“Okay. So, you’re an early bird. An early bird who doesn’t need coffee. Unless—wait, are you one of those guys who goes and sits with his dog and sips coffee at a café, watching the sun come up?”
“No,” he chuckled and shook his head, as if he found me ridiculous.
The muscles of my face relaxed, and I caught myself smiling back at him.
I didn’t care if he was laughing at me. He looked damn good doing it.
“What, then?” I probed.
“Been wakin’ up at dawn every mornin’ for the last three years. Can’t help it. Doesn’t bother me. Now that I’m out, I make good use of the time. Hit the gym first thing. Leave time for breakfast before gettin’ on with the day.”
I trailed my fingertips lightly across the Wild Stallions logo inked on his outer right bicep. “You worked up a sweat before now, with me—any chance you stopped for breakfast while you were out?”
“Got sidetracked. On the list of shit I gotta do soon as I hit the shower.”
It wasn’t merely the confirmation breakfast was coming that made me smile; it was knowing it was on his list.
I was on his list.
“Let me guess what’s on the menu today…” I paused to think, grazing my hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, until my fingers felt the hair at his nape.
I honestly didn’t care one way or another what he brought, I merely wanted another second with him on top of me. “Bagel? Egg, cheese, sausage?”
He smirked down at me, and the sight made my sex clench.
His smirk turned into a smile as he slowly pulled out before standing to his feet.
“It’s Saturday,” he said as he yanked his gym shorts over his hips.
“Yeah—what does that mean?”
He swiped his sweat towel from off the floor and tossed it onto the couch next to me in offering.
“Means I ran five miles so I could chase my protein shake with a cinnamon roll.”
I reached for the towel then propped myself up on my elbows.
“Not big on cardio, but a cinnamon roll to go with my coffee sounds divine.”
“Thirty minutes,” he stated as he turned for the bathroom. “Forty, tops.”
He was in and out of the shower in five.
Ten minutes later, the rumble of his Harley broadcasted his departure.
By the time I was out of the shower twenty minutes after that, he’d already come and gone, taking Reaper with him.
But I didn’t mind.
I was still riding the high of angry sex with Pistol.
Plus, my cinnamon roll was left by my Keurig with a note.
It said nothing and everything at once.
7:00.