Eyes sealed shut, she clings to me. “I…I…Words…Don’t know…I don’t know words…”
I can tell that she wants to shout. Hell—I want to shout, too. But as much as we want to let go, we need to practice restraint. We can’t be too loud tonight.
Soon, the mirror is slamming into the wall and that’s not gonna work. The last thing I want is to wake up Callie or end up having to deal with a downpour of shattered glass in the middle of our orgasms. So, I lift her off the dresser. I continue to thrust into her as I carry her across the room.
I pour her diagonally across the mattress and come down on top of her. Our bodies clash desperately in the dark. We share wet, eager kisses and our hands roam all over. Pulling hair. Scratching skin. Stroking zones tender and sensitive and electric all at once. It’s so messy. So primal.
I roll onto my back and tug her on top of me. My fingers find her clit and she teases her own nipples. Eyes scrunched tight, lips moving wordlessly, she rides me to a body-shaking orgasm. With that long hair draping down to her waist and those full lips, ripe and open, she looks like a fucking mermaid. Washed in pleasure and moonlight as I hold her hips steady and I thrust up into her until my own orgasm detonates mere seconds later.
When it’s all over, she collapses against my chest, her hair spreading across her back like a dark blanket. She’s dazed and whispering incoherent words into my neck. With a light touch, I stroke up and down her spine.
I should probably keep my mouth shut but I can’t help the words pouring out of me. “I missed being with you like this.”
She holds me tighter. “Then don’t leave. Stay with me. Please.”
I know that I should get up and leave, go off in search of sleep on my lumpy couch in the basement. But I don’t want to. Not tonight.
“I’ll stay…”
Most men probably take this for granted. But I appreciate it all. The soft pillows, the soft sheets, the soft woman curled between my arms.
I want to hold her all night and feel her deep fluttery breaths against my chest as I dream about her and she dreams about me. So that’s exactly what I do.
Dammit. I’m falling for her.
41 Jessa
I roll over at the crack of dawn and find myself cuddled in the strong, capable arms of a beautiful man. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up so happy. His pulse is slow and steady, in perfect contrast to mine. My heart flips then flops then wobbles as I watch him here.
He spent the night! He spent the night! He spent the night!
He spent the night with me instead of going back to his couch in the basement. I’d fully expected him to creep out after I fell asleep and leave me to wake up alone. But he’s here and I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with myself.
Although I wish I could stay here all morning and stare at his handsome face, I have to get out of bed. Callie will be up soon, full of energy and ready to chatter as always. I’d better go get breakfast started.
I pull on my sleep shorts with my big, comfy college sweatshirt and some leggings. Then, I sneak into the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash off yesterday’s makeup (hello, racoon eyes!) and pull my hair into a quick ponytail. Not much time to make myself pretty but I manage to swipe on some lipgloss.
I’m popping the frozen waffles into the toaster when I feel a pair of large palms clench me by the waist. Soft lips and delicious scruff touch my neck. I’m melting like butter in Eli’s hands.
“Good morning,” he whispers as he moves my hair off my shoulder. Then his lips are drawing a trail across my sensitive skin.
I spin around in his hold and drape my arms around his neck. “Good morning.” He flexes his hips and his erection announces its presence. Rather aggressively. “Ooh, good morning.” I growl, my lips against his as I stroke a hand down his eager shaft.
“Why’d you get out of bed?” He rubs the tip of his nose up and down the length of my neck and I feel like I’m going crazy. “My cock was looking forward to getting to say hello.”
I giggle. “Callie’s gonna be up soon. I wanted to get breakfast started.” I run my palms over his shoulders and down his arms. Even through his thin T-shirt, I can feel the warmth of his skin and his bulging muscles.
“Let me help,” he says, stepping away from me and glancing at the ingredients spread out on the counter.
I instruct him to make the oatmeal while I get started on some scrambled eggs and bacon. We dance around each other in the kitchen, whispering and snickering and flirting with each other.
When he can’t stand the sexual tension anymore, Eli wraps his arms around my waist and draws me close to him. “I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he says in a growl.
I run my fingers up the back of his neck into his hair. “What was your favorite part?”
He brings his lips to my ear. “The dresser…My cock was so deep inside you, I was half-scared he would get lost and I’d never see the one-eyed bastard again.”
I throw my head back and cackle. It’s a really unflattering sound. And loud. So I try to bury the cackles with my palm.
He aims his perfect grin at me. “What was your favorite part?”
“I’m gonna sound really corny and girlie and lame if I admit it,” I confess.
“Spill it,” Eli demands.
“Uh…no,” I say with hesitation.
“Jessa, spill it.” He tickles my ribs. “Go ahead. I want to hear it.”
Giggling and squirming and batting at his hands, I let it come tumbling out. “My favorite part was
