Three
ANDRé
I woke with a start. For a moment, I was disoriented, not sure where I was. Not my house, that’s for sure. Tendrils of Southern California sunshine bathed me in unwelcome brightness, shining down from the high ceiling’s narrow skylights. Mallory.
Mallory’s breath was even, her muscles relaxed in sleep. She certainly deserved to rest after last night. We’d spent the night alternating mind-blowing sex and deep discussions, curled up together like a pair of longtime lovers.
I loved the smooth sound of her voice, the vibration of her words against my chest, the warmth of her breath caressing my skin.
She was like nobody I’ve ever met and from the moment I’d set eyes on her, I’d wanted to learn more.
To see if she was as extraordinary as she seemed. A wave of longing filled my chest.
Hell, maybe I should write a song about it. Clear out these jumbled thoughts, this swell of emotion beneath my sternum. Because usually I kept my relationships simple––no other choice with my nomadic lifestyle. For some reason, Mallory didn’t evoke a desire to leave. All I wanted was to stay.
She stretched her long limbs and my cock thickened. Mallory’s subtle curves plastered against me, the lemony fragrance of her silky hair, and the feel of her velvety skin beneath my palm filled my senses.
I wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot. Somewhere around midnight, she’d promised me a shower. The vision of her tempting body slick with soap and steaming hot water had me rock hard and ready to go.
I nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. I raked my teeth lightly down her throat, flicking my tongue against the sensitive spot I’d discovered earlier. She moaned and arched against me.
I pulled her in closer. “Good morning, gorgeous. Let’s take that shower now.”
She murmured her assent and I led her by the hand to the walk-in shower.
I flicked on the water and dialed it up to scalding before turning to thread my fingers through her wild tangle of hair and capture her tempting mouth.
We stepped into the billowing steam and escaped into each other until the water ran cool.
Later, much later, Mallory slipped into a short robe that showed off her long, toned legs. She left me alone and I pulled on my jeans and brushed my teeth with my finger.
I followed the mouthwatering aroma of coffee into her kitchen, stepped up behind Mallory, and drew her into my arms. “That smells amazing.”
She leaned her head back, a smile dancing on her lips. “I’m very serious about my coffee.”
“If you’ve got a frother to steam milk, I might cry.” Not joking. I needed caffeine bad.
She laughed. “I’d hate to make you cry but yes, I’m going to make it super foamy for you. Regular milk okay?”
“Sure. If you’re hungry, I can whip us up the best omelet you’ve ever had.” I was actually a great chef, if I did say so myself.
“I’d love that.” She crossed to the stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out milk and all the ingredients for omelets.
She turned to me, her cat eyes wide. “So, last night you mentioned you played football for Oregon. Did you ever play pro?”
My spine stiffened but I forced myself to relax. Mallory was not the rock and roll groupie type. I wanted to be as open with her as she’d been with me. “No, I loved the game but it wasn’t anything I ever wanted as a career.”
I was so accustomed to evading questions about what I did for a living. But after last night, a spark of hope bloomed in my chest. Mallory seemed like the kind of woman who wouldn’t care about fame and fortune––not with her dedication to anthropology and her own dreams.
Instinctively, I knew I could trust her to see me for who I was, not what I did. She wouldn’t change once I told her I was a drummer for one of the world’s biggest rock bands. I didn’t want to just blurt it out, though. I’d tell her when the time was right.
I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted to get to know her. I wanted her.