Page 29 of His to Love
My head fell to his shoulder as his ministrations slowed and he slipped his fingers from inside me. Both of his hands wrapped around my lower back, and one hand slid up until he cupped my shoulder. He held me to him while I trembled from aftershocks and I reveled in the quick beating of our hearts against our chests.
“Beautiful,” he whispered into my ear. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”
A puff of breath escaped my lips. I nuzzled closer to him.
“Please stay,” I said hesitantly. My hands wrapped around his back. “Stay the night with me.”
Chapter 7
There wasn’t a brick wall at my back when I woke up the next morning. Instead, I was somehow lying on it. As I opened my eyes, the first thing I realized was that my head was resting on Tyson’s shoulder and my arm was draped across his stomach, my hand low on his hip.
My leg was thrown over one of his. I was practically lying directly on top of the man, and based on the way his arm was curved around my back, resting on my waist, the sleeping man beneath me didn’t seem to mind.
Not if the hardness pressed against my thigh was any indication.
As soon as I felt it, every muscle in my body tensed. With nerves or anticipation, I didn’t know, because I wasn’t given the chance to find out. Tyson’s hand on my waist tightened, and he flipped and rolled us and I quickly found myself on my back.
Beneath him.
My jaw dropped as he hovered over me¸ keeping some of his weight off me by bracing his forearm next to the side of my head while his other arm still wrapped around my back.
“Good morning,” he mumbled right before he dipped his head and his lips took mine.
And it was so good, I didn’t think about morning breath, bed head, or leftover makeup smeared beneath my eyes before his tongue dipped into my mouth, swirled with mine, and he let loose a low groan that hit the deepest parts of me. My hands moved to his hips, holding him to me, and my knees widened until I could feel his hardness press against me.
Perfect.
“Good morning,” I whispered when he pulled back and began trailing his lips across my jaw. My fingers gripped his waist and then slowly began running up his back, feeling all of his muscles flex and bunch. His warm breath skated across my skin, eliciting a delicious shiver that danced down my spine. I shifted into him, my fingernails dug into his shoulders, and just as Tyson began pushing up the tank top I had on to reach my skin, his phone rang.
“Ignore it,” I muttered against his mouth. My voice was breathy, panting.
His was just as erratic when he groaned into my neck. “I can’t. Shit.”
With another kiss to my throat, he slowly let me go, and rolled off me until he was sitting up at the far edge of the bed. I rolled over to face him and watched him dig his cellphone out of his back jeans pocket.
“Blackwell,” he said and glanced over his shoulder at me. Whatever softness had been in his eyes when he was on top of me evaporated and his face and voice grew tight. “It’s Sunday.”
I took my cue from the sudden coolness in his expression, rolled to my side of the bed, and rushed to the bathroom. My cheeks were flushed, my pupils dilated, and thank goodness I didn’t have time to think about morning breath, or bed head, or smeared mascara earlier, because as I took stock of myself while I reached for my toothbrush, I learned I had all of the above.
I looked like a hungover raccoon and cringed at my reflection.
But Tyson didn’t seem to mind, so I thought about that while I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and used the toilet. Then I snagged the robe hanging on the bathroom door on my way out and paused when I saw Tyson sitting in almost the exact same position he was in when I left the room. Legs spread wide on the edge of the bed, one elbow to his knee, his forehead in his palm and the other hand still held the phone. In order to avoid interrupting him, I quietly moved toward the living room and barely caught what he was saying into the receiver.
“I’m working on it…well, I tried to warn you…Yes, I told you, it’ll be fine.”
Due to the nature of my father’s business, I understood that all sorts of things happened at all hours of the day and that phone calls that didn’t involve me, or any conversations for that matter, were best left alone. So I stopped listening, closed the bedroom door behind me, and went to make coffee.
I was lost in dreams of caramel-flavored coffee and memories of the way Tyson’s body felt against mine, so I didn’t hear him enter the room. I jumped when his warm arm wrapped around my waist and his hand rested on my stomach, pulling me toward him.
“Wasn’t how I wanted to start the morning,” he whispered huskily into my ear. I relaxed further, and let him pull me up against his chest. I could now feel he’d gotten fully dressed. “But I need to get to work.”
I frowned, felt my lips push into a pout.
“Okay,” I muttered and reached for the carafe. “Can I get you coffee before you leave?”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my cheek. “Sorry, Blue, but I can’t.”
I shifted in his arms until he let me go and took a step back. Sipping my first hit of daily-recommended caffeine, I closed my eyes and relished the taste.
