CHAPTER 45
Exploring each other… that’s the best part.
I wake slowly from a blissful sleep instead of a nightmare or vivid dream.
Judging by the amount of light filtering into the room through the blinds, it’s the early hours.
The air holds that morning chill, made more noticeable by the fact that the sweet creature lying next to me has stolen a good deal of the sheets sometime in the night.
I carefully turn so I can lean on my elbow and take her in like this.
She’s a stomach sleeper. Her face is pressed to the sheet. Her pillow is nowhere in sight. The tips of her fingers are a breath away from her thick bottom lip, and her other hand is hidden under the messy waves of her brown and caramel mane of hair.
As I revel in her beauty, flashes of the best day of my life come back to me.
Our morning ride yesterday. Making love in the lake next to the waterfall.
Our dinner conversation at the family-owned restaurant.
And laying her out for the first time on my bed, and taking her apart piece by piece until she begged for me to put an end to the torment and get inside of her.
I’m so fucking thankful I’m able to recall those moments with clarity. I wrote them down in my journal just in case, but I can’t express how much it means to hold them in my mind’s eye, too.
I remember the feel of her body hugging mine on our rides.
I remember the way her skin glowed in the sunlight.
The sassy, playful way she bantered with me on the hike, and the wonder on her face when we arrived at the waterfall.
The desperate whimpers and moans I drew from her as we came together that first time, and the slow way we came down from that combustible heat last night.
She didn’t retreat like I’d thought she might.
She didn’t get dressed and try to make an escape.
She loved on me, ran her fingers through my hair, pecked my lips, and was the softest version of her that I’d ever experienced.
Maybe yesterday was as transformative for her as it was for me.
At the lake, we’d played around in the water for about an hour, and after I’d pulled the blanket from my backpack, we’d lain out to dry in the sun afterward.
I unpacked the supplies, and we snacked for a while.
I went back to my detail collecting, but not in the way I had before.
I wasn’t digging for more information, I was letting her unravel for me and appreciating every single thing her choices and words told me.
And last night, I took my time learning every inch of her skin, every curve of her body, listening to each breathy plea, gasp, and desperate moan.
I let myself relive the best moments and a few memories in particular, take up billboard space inside my head. Her lying spread on my bed and writhing as she fucked herself on her fingers. The way she pulled them out and fed them to me—the fierce, earnest desire in her eyes as she did.
Her level of greed for the forbidden and lurid aspects of sex is pure intoxication. I swear to God it puts me in a haze where the feeling, touch, taste, sounds, and the sight of her are all that matter.
The way her back bowed as I took her without mercy and fucked her with abandon.
The way her breath exited her lungs in one solid punch when I lifted her legs onto my shoulders, bent over her, and slid back inside her.
How she scraped her nails so deeply into my skin that they left their mark on the man underneath the skin.
Fuck she did. Maybe she doesn’t realize it, but she did.
The image of her pussy stretched around my cock. The way her body moved, skin dewy with sweat, and rolling to a rhythm that resembled waves cresting and receding. Then she pushed me back and turned, and I took her from behind while gripping her small hips.
I got my wish and finally spanked her ass, and her response encouraged me to let go and fulfill that desire to my heart’s content.
Hearing her scratchy voice hoarsely shout my name to the ceiling when she hit her peak brought mine forward like a siren’s call, and we came apart together.
As we lay together afterward, catching our breath, I thought of only one thing—that I could do this for a lifetime, and it wouldn’t be enough.
This moment is different than all the others, though.
This is solace. Her at peace. A wild thing at rest. Even though my bodily functions scream at me to piss, brush my teeth, and get coffee loaded into my veins, I deny every impulse because this is what I want most—to see this beautiful creature lying right beside me.
When I can no longer put off my bodily needs, I move as slowly as possible and do my best not to wake her. I’m successful. Within a dozen minutes or so, I’m back. Coffee in hand and bad breath banished.
After gently placing a cup on the end table beside her side of the bed, I retreat to mine and crawl back under the covers with her.
It’s a while before she stirs. Then her legs scissor under the sheets. A small moan escapes her before her husky voice says, “I can feel you watching me.”
Chuckling under my breath, I retort, “Is that right?”
She sweeps her hair out of her face. “Yes. Mr. Creepy Creeperton.” She sits up and has no qualms about her naked body. The flesh on display is delicious and enticing. I lick my bottom lip, and I let my gaze roam over her.
She smirks knowingly.
“What? I can’t watch the woman I fucked into the mattress last night, sleep?”
She shrugs. “It’s your bed, your room, so I guess you can do whatever you like.”
Damn right it is. And if it were up to me, it’s where she’d stay.
I say none of it.
Instead, I take a sip from my coffee. Before I can lower it back to my lap, she reaches for it. I motion to the other side of the bed. “I made you one too, but I wasn’t sure how you take it.”
“Coffee is coffee. I dress it up and make it as sugary sweet as possible, but that’s me. When I’m desperate, I’ll take it any way I can get it. Caffeine is life, and without it, well, let’s just say, I’d be the zombiest zombie who ever was. So yeah, hand it over or I’ll attack.” She waves her hand.
When I still don’t pass it over, she lifts an eyebrow. I motion to her cup. She ignores me.
Finally, she says, “I want to taste yours. You can judge a lot about a person by the way they take their coffee.”
“Is that right?”
“Why the defiance, Mr. Road Captain? Are you not an agreeable morning person? Because this feels like something I need to know. Yesterday, you gave me whatever I asked for. Today, a sip of your coffee is off-limits. Hmmm… maybe I need to rethink a few things.”
I grunt out a laugh when she raises her brow at me.
She looks around after taking in my room, mainly the bookshelves filled with books, and says, “I know you have the right words, but you choose to go silent a lot of the time. Why is that?”
“I just don’t see the need to talk like I know more than I do, or talk about shit that doesn’t matter.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Are you going to share or not?”
I give up my cup. While taking it, she spills a bit over the rim and onto her hand. She clutches the cup with one hand while hissing and shaking out the other. “Shit, that’s hot.”
“Did you burn yourself?”
“Yeah, but it’s my fault. I didn’t expect it to be near boiling.”
It’s my turn to lift a brow. “So what does that say about me?”
Eyeing me, she carefully brings the brim of the mug to her mouth.
Her eyes close as she takes a small sip.
Then her head sways side to side. A small, impish smile graces her lips.
“You like your coffee. It’s probably one of the simple pleasures you invest money in.
Because this isn’t something you get off the shelf in a regular grocery store. ”
Impressed, I confirm. “I special ordered it from a company in Utah, of all places. I had to shop around a bit to find it. There are a few I order from, but this one’s my favorite. I’m good with spending money on the things that are important to me.”
She hums and eyes me over the rim as she takes another sip.
“What else?” I ask.
Her gaze drops to the mug. “The temperature of it. You drink a lot of coffee. You’ve probably burned your mouth enough times that you’re not as susceptible to the heat like a normal person might be.”
“What’s normal?”
“The statistical average human being occupying the planet’s opinion.”
I chuckle at that and try to take the mug back. She pulls it away. “I’m not done.”
“More knowledge to share?”
“Yes. You probably feel the same about morning coffee as I do, or it’s the caffeine high you need. I’m going to go with the taste, though, that’s the part you love.”
I nod and hold out my hand.
“The heat also says you’re not afraid to get burned, or you’re a masochist. Maybe both.” She studies me for a moment. “Yep, both. You like to punish yourself, don’t you?”
I chuckle darkly because she’s not wrong.
When she finishes the first cup, she passes it over and then immediately reaches for the other cup on the bedside table. This time, she shares it. Then she sinks back into the sheets and moans as she gets comfortable. “Your bed is so soft. And these sheets, what the hell are they?”
“Bamboo. Cooling sheets.”
“Just a warning… I may never leave.”
“I’ve got no problem with that.”
Her laugh brings a smile to my face. I stare at her long enough that the moment becomes weighted with feeling.
Because, fuck, she’s a stunning creature.
She shies away from it by turning her face.
For a split second, she inhales the scent of her pillow, then faces the opposite way towards the window and the sunshine streaming in.
“Do you ever wish time had a pause button?” she asks in a breathy whisper.
I join her and curl up against her back. “I haven’t ever thought about it. But if there was such a thing, I’d want a rewind one.”