Chapter 13 Crow #2
Her breath, her cries, the shaking of her entire body when she climaxes, send my body into a frenzy.
My dick is so hard, the tip is already weeping, and my balls are tight against my body.
While she rides out her orgasm, her legs tight around me, I can taste the peachy-sweet juices of her release on my tongue.
I don’t move a muscle, just rest my cheek against her damp thigh, my fingers still planted deep inside her, while she strokes my hair with weak fingers.
She groans when she shifts, trying to sit up. “Well, if that’s getting creative… Oh, Crow…”
I climb to the top of the bed and cuddle her to my chest, but she’s giving me a sultry look and moving onto her hands and knees. “Snuggle later.”
I’m still wearing my jeans and socks, so together, we peel off my clothes and drop them on the floor. In a slow, methodical way, Birdie explores my body with her eyes.
“You have so many more tattoos,” she whispers. “So many more stories.”
I chuckle. I do, but the way my dick is stabbing the air, I don’t think I could answer any questions if she asked them.
I don’t think I can say my own name when Birdie’s hand goes right for my dick.
She strokes the shaft, her fingers light, and then she grips it more firmly in her hand and lowers her mouth.
When her lips touch the head with hot, breathy kisses and sweet, light licks, the blast of electricity nearly sends my body through the ceiling.
But I quickly adjust to the sensation of her mouth on me. Her soft hair spills over my belly and thighs, and when I can manage to keep my eyes open, I can see her full breasts bounce as she takes my length into her mouth.
I gasp, then utter a stream of curses as her tongue, light and so wet, works around the head, while her hand grips my shaft. I want this to be slow, sexy. I want to take all she’s willing to give and then some, but way, way too soon, I’m trembling and warning her she might want to pull away.
But she stays, and I release in her mouth, a sensation so foreign and intense that I lose control of my body. I’m thrashing and moaning, my hands going weak in her hair until, finally, I crash my head back against the wall, dripping sweat and breathless.
She excuses herself to the bathroom and returns just a few moments later. She climbs into bed beside me with a dry hand towel in her hands. She blots my forehead of sweat, then sets the towel aside and cuddles up beside me.
I hold her close, and for long minutes, neither one of us says a word.
There’s a heat in the air of the room, thick with the scent of our releases but so, so sweet.
But the weirdest feeling of all is how familiar it all is.
How she feels made to fit against my bare chest, her slim arms perfectly slung over my belly, her damp hair clinging to my skin.
She strokes the hair on my belly until her hand goes still.
She’s dozing quietly, her breathing even, her chest rising and falling in an almost perfect rhythm with mine.
I’m satisfied and happy, my body relaxed and my mind at ease. But despite how perfect this is, how good and safe and free I feel, I don’t sleep. I just lie there, in her dark bedroom, and exist in the moment I never, ever want to end.
I wake up the next morning to a call. My phone is deep in the pockets of my jeans, the ringer going off like something’s on fire. Incessant and irritating.
Birdie is naked beside me, one of her thighs tucked between mine.
We’re in the most complicated position I can remember ever actually sleeping in, and I curse at the damn phone, figuring it’ll stop before it wakes up Birdie, but whoever’s calling has an urgent need to fuck up my Sunday morning or a total disregard for getting their ear blasted with obscenities—probably both, because whoever it is doesn’t leave a voice mail, but they do call back.
“Motherfuck…” I whisper against Birdie’s hair and climb over her. I lean over the side of the bed, refusing to drag myself away from her long, naked limbs, and grab my jeans. The phone is blowing up in the pocket when I finally answer it with a bark.
“What?” I demand, not giving a shit who it is.
“Yo, man, it’s me. We got to roll.”
I hold the phone away and check the time. “Arrow, it’s not even eight on a fucking Sunday. What the fuck, man?”
“The client I want help with is on the move today. I got a message from the wife that her husband was up early. I’m at the car rental place now, setting up an account for you. How soon can you be here?”
I groan and look back at Birdie. She’s rubbing her face and rolling over in bed.
The last thing I want to do is leave this.
Leave her. Mia is probably going to be with Alice and Morris until, at the earliest, late morning…
I mean, kids at sleepovers usually stay up late and wake up late, right?
If I stay, Birdie and I can repeat last night once, twice, who knows how many times before we need to be anywhere.
“Crow? Man, you got a ride here?”
I sigh. While I don’t relish the idea of ending what was the most amazing night of the last decade—fuck, maybe of my life—if I want more nights like that, I need to provide.
I need to take steps to be the man I want to be in every way, not just a fuck machine who thinks with his dick.
As easy as doing exactly that could be with Birdie, her sleep-mussed hair barely covering her breasts.
“Give me a half hour,” I tell him. “I’ll figure it out.”
I lean over and kiss Birdie’s hair. “Baby… Birdie,” I tease, stroking the strands away from her face.
She opens her eyes, and when she grins, my dick throbs and my body forgets all about Arrow and any job he might have.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” she mumbles. She reaches for me. “Coming back to bed?”
I hang my head and sigh. “Arrow’s got a client on the move. He wants me to work today.”
She looks disappointed for a moment. “Noooo,” she mumbles. “Nooooo.” She sits up in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. “Is this because you think I’ll give you food poisoning if I try to make breakfast? I promise, I’ve got more frozen sausage and egg biscuits downstairs.”
She’s grinning, her gray eyes as light as the sky after a rain.
Something’s different between us now, and it’s not just the fact that we’re both naked in her bed.
It’s like a little wall, that steel behind her eyes, has been knocked back.
I feel it too, lighter. Safer. Like I can trust this. I can trust her.
“You’re nuts,” I say, claiming her lips with mine.
“Last night was fucking perfect. You’re perfect.
Whatever you feed me for breakfast…” I shake my head.
“All right, we’ll cook together. When we have time.
Another morning.” It’s a reach, a leap, but I need to believe this wasn’t a one-and-done.
I need to believe she’ll want this again as much as I already know I do.
I lift her chin with my fingertips. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I wish I could spend the whole day naked with you. I’d stay for as long as you’d have my ass.”
“Mmm-hmm, that ass,” she sighs. She sits up straight and takes my hand in hers. “You should go,” she says. “If you want to give this PI thing a try.” She lifts the back of my hand to her lips and kisses my sparrow. “By the time you come back, I’ll have condoms.”
I growl and lunge at her, kissing her lips and fisting her hair. God, even first thing in the morning, she’s sexy as fuck. She meets my kiss again and again, until finally, she’s the one to pull away.
“Unless you want to spend the entire day like this…which, I’d be damn happy to do…let’s get you on the road. You want me to drop you off?”
I nod. “That would be great. You mind if I shower? Since I’m putting the same clothes on I wore yesterday, at least Arrow won’t have to smell all this on me.”
She laughs and climbs out of bed. She strides naked to the hall closet and pulls out towels, a fresh bar of soap, and a brand-new toothbrush.
“Help yourself,” she says. “I’ll go start coffee.”
I shower quickly, stepping around Mia’s colorful bath toys and bath products that look more like paints than soaps or shampoos.
I’m surprised at how many things a kid her age needs just to shower, but it’s not a bad thing.
After spending years showering in flip-flops with a stale sliver of soap to my name, all the products and choices feel like humanizing luxuries.
I’m glad they have them, and if I can contribute to giving Mia and Birdie that kind of financial stability, I’ll do the work, take the job.
Swallow my hesitation and give this thing a real chance.
Not just for me. For Mia. For Birdie. And the future I am starting to hope the three of us can have together.
I leave my wet towel hanging over the bar that holds a palm-tree-printed shower curtain and put on my clothes from last night. The smell of coffee greets me, and when I head downstairs, Birdie is dressed in a long sleep shirt, but she’s wearing nothing underneath.
“Seriously…” I groan and take the travel mug of coffee from her. “If you want to distract me from going anywhere today…” I slide a hand up the back of her shirt and fondle her firm, smooth ass.
She leans her head against my chest. “That wasn’t the plan, but…” She lifts her face to mine and says, “Two minutes. I need pants and a bra. Be right back.”
She’s gone for closer to ten minutes, so I text Arrow that I’m just getting a ride and will be on the way any minute.
We head out when Birdie comes back down, her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head.
She’s got on skintight yoga pants and a tank top instead of the loose sleep shirt.
Just remembering what’s underneath that tiny bit of fabric, the tasty berries of her nipples, makes me want to forget all about Arrow and any shitty job.