“Why can’t you help it?” she asks, her voice soft, teasing.
A slow smile tugs at my lips. “I missed looking at you.”
Her breath catches as I lean in, my free hand sliding to the back of her neck, even as my thumb traces slow, lazy circles against her skin. I stretch to put my wineglass down on the coffee table and wait as Olivia does the same. Once we’re both settled again, I can’t hold back another minute. I close the distance, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that starts gentle—tentative, savoring—before deepening. My other hand glides down her arm before gently moving to rest around her waist. She melts into me briefly before shifting to straddle my lap, our bodies pressing together in a way that instantly turns me on. I can feel the heat of her pressed up against my growing erection, as my hands explore the familiar terrain of her back, her hips, anchoring her to me.
Our kisses grow hungrier, our hands wandering, breaths mingling. It’s the best kind of sensuous madness that’s filled with murmured names and soft sighs. The world outside fades, the rain, the fire, the ticking clock—none of it exists.
Only us.
Only this moment.
Her fingers rake through my hair as she breaks the kiss. “We should take this inside.”
“We should,” I breathlessly agree, hating that we have to stop for even a minute. I’m not the most athletic guy, but I somehow stand with her wrapped around me. “Which way?” Because I’ve clearly already forgotten the layout.
Olivia points and I slowly walk us in that direction. It’s not far, but it feels that way. At the doorway to her bedroom, I press her against the wall, our bodies molding together, as if desperate to erase the weeks of distance between them. Her nails score down my back, pulling her closer, closer, until there’s not a breath of space between us.
I need to speak; I need to tell her how I feel even as I regret putting even the slightest of space between us.
“I missed you,” I murmur against her lips, my voice rough with emotion.
She nods, unable to speak, her hands memorizing the planes of my face, the heat of my skin. “The bed, Ash. Please.”
She doesn’t need to tell me twice. We shift slightly, effortlessly, as I carry her across the dimly lit room, my mouth barely leaving hers, our kisses deepening with each step.
When we reach the bed, I lay her down slowly, reverently, my eyes drinking her in as if I’m afraid she might disappear. She reaches for me, guiding me down on top of her, and in that moment, words are unnecessary.
We speak through touch—fingertips tracing old paths, lips mapping forgotten territories. Every sigh, every whisper, every shuddered breath is a confession: I missed you. I need you. I love you.
And as our bodies move in rhythm, there is no more time, no more distance—only this moment, until…
“Crap,” Olivia hisses, leaving me wildly confused.
Slowly, I lift my head. “What? What’s the matter?”
“The bed’s not made. Not even sheets, Ash.”
“Is that all?” I say with a bark of laughter. “We’ll make it later. I promise. We don’t need sheets or blankets for what we’re about to do, beautiful girl.”
The sexy grin she gives me is full of agreement.
Then she’s pulling me back down and kissing me until we’re both breathless and panting. And neither of us thinks about anything other than getting naked and feeling good for a very long time.
“See? Isn’t this better?”
“There wasn’t anything wrong with the way it was before.”
“Oh, please. You were shivering, Ash,” she chastises. “And there’s nothing wrong with admitting it.”
“The air-conditioning vent was blowing right on my bare ass!” I argue, but just lightly. Cold air on sweaty skin is always a bit jarring.
“Still, now we have nice clean sheets, fluffy pillows, and a light blanket. We can sleep comfortably.”
As if on cue, I yawn, the day finally catching up with me.
Olivia snuggles close, our legs tangling together under the sheets. “I’ve missed this. I used to think I preferred sleeping alone, but I guess I just never found the perfect person to sleep with.”
I hug her. “Good. That just means you were waiting for me.”
