“Yes,” she replies. “As your agent, I expect them actually.”
I grunt. “I thought we’d be making details right now, but he’s working tonight.”
“Working?” Jasmine asks. “At night? Sounds suspicious.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s working. I’m worried, though. Did you see the news? The attack at the shopping mall in NorCal?” A conversation switch is mandatory now that we’ve delved into my sex life.
“Sick fuckers. Don’t let fear run your life. Especially now that you have the hottest bodyguard on the planet.”
“He deploys soon, remember? I’ll be all by myself. Not that I’m worried about solitary confinement. Well, maybe a little bit.” I don’t even have to say his name.
“You haven’t heard from him or seen him since the day you left. What makes you think anything will change?”
Leaning back in my chair, I tilt my chin up to stare at the ceiling. It’s illuminated by the glow of my computer. “I have a feeling something bad will happen. I can’t explain it.”
Jasmine groans. “Then don’t explain. Don’t think about it. Just read me that scene again. I’m going to grab my glass of wine.”
I laugh. “Shut up. I’ll talk to you later. I’ll send over the finished chapters in the morning.”
“Good luck,” Jasmine rasps.
“With what?” I ask.
“Smith. When he gets home from work.” With alaugh, she says goodbye and ends the call.
Checking messages again without anything new, I toss my cell on the desk next to my notebook and headphones. I may need to move my desk into the empty bedroom. I’ve been working too late, and I think it’s because my workstation is located a few feet from my bed.
I read my new words a few more times and stand from my chair to stretch my tired hands over my head. I throw on a nightshirt that hits high on my thigh, wash my face, and brush my teeth. All through the mundane tasks, I revel in the knowledge that I’ve written our first kiss. A kiss that will live forever in the pages of a book. It’s freeing and terrifying at the same time. I’ve gotten used to my friends reading my work and assuming I write nonfiction. How will this be any different? Other than the fact that I’m dating the person who I’m writing about? Early on, Smith and I decided that he wouldn’t read anything until I was finished—until it returned from the editor and the draft was final, final. He’s got more willpower than me, that’s for sure. If someone were writing a story about me, I’d have to know everything as it was written. Especially if it were sitting right under my nose. Smith doesn’t even glance at my marker boards. He says his momma raised a gentleman.
Our wooden floors creak underneath my steps as I head for the kitchen. The old bungalow style of our house is brand-new to me. It’s different than the house I grew up in and is much different than the house Roarkebuilt for us. Surrounded by these walls gives me a new lease on life in more ways than the obvious. The water goes down easily as I stare out into the dark purple night, trying to quench a nagging thirst. A coyote calls out from the ravine several houses down, and lightning bugs dot across the window, flying so slow even I could catch them.
My eyes are heavy when I slide into bed and pull the cool sheet over my bare legs. I click on the small side lamp on the opposite end table so it’s not dark when Smith comes home, and I close my eyes. My mind still whirs with the thrill of his lips against my own and the way he looked at me when he gently pulled away. Smith was starry-eyed. My stomach flips with excitement at the thought. Once his face enters my mind, I can’t shake it. It’s half tan and smooth and half red and scarred. Even his body is a representation of before and after. Pre-mortar and post-mortar. Or, in easier terms, Megan and Carina.
With no family of my own and the evil ghosts from my past plaguing me, this afternoon was a reminder of what will never truly be mine. Smith lost a lot, but he still has so much. My hope is that I can be a part of it for as long as he’ll let me. I open my eyes once more, and the blue digital clock reads 12:07 a.m. I close my eyes for the final time, turn off my brain, and finally fall asleep.
First, sunlight peeking from the blinds wakes me. Next I’m acutely aware of the heavy arm slung acrossthe middle of my body and his chest pressed against my back, creating a heat that warms me from the outside in. When I stir, Smith props himself up on his elbow and looks down at me. “What time did you get in last night?” I roll over to face him. The smile comes without my permission. Waking up to this sight makes me happier than anything in my past.
“This morning,” he replies. “A few hours ago.” A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s seven a.m. “I didn’t want to wake you when I came in. You looked so peaceful in your drool-filled slumber.” He smiles, and it melts my insides. I suck in a deep breath.
“I do not drool,” I say, furrowing my brow. “I sleep like a Disney princess. Don’t suggest anything to contradict that.” I wipe at my bottom lip. It’s currently dry. “You should go back to sleep, Smith. You can’t possibly be ready to wake after only a few hours of sleep.”
Shrugging, he pulls me into his warm, shirtless body and yanks the quilt back up to our necks, his hands now wandering over my body. “Sleep is the very last thing on my mind right now.” His gaze burns into mine, and his hands find the hem of my nightshirt. His lips twitch. “You wear so little to bed. I can’t help myself,” he says. With a featherlight touch, his fingertips stroke the side of my thigh up to the string of my panties. He hooks a finger in and drags his finger underneath it, teasing himself. Teasing me, too. “It took all of my self-control to go to sleep with this much of your bare skin in touchingproximity.”
I blush. Big time. Everything below my waist cries out for attention in one wild rush of excitement. It’s been too long. But it’s more than that now because everything before this has been lukewarm. “What did you do at work last night?” I ask before all important thoughts flee my mind in favor of his touch—something that scrambles my brain cells. “Why did it take so long?”
His face changes. His hand stops on my hip bone and he grabs it, his fingers encompassing the whole side of my body. Breathing in and out makes his hand move with me. It’s warm. It’s demanding. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Smith replies.
I shake my head. “When people say stuff like that, typically there is almost always something to worry about, but you don’t want to worry the person. Do you see how counterintuitive that is? Now I’m worried because you told me not to worry.”
He sighs and then pulls the covers over his head and disappears under the blankets. In a fast maneuver that tickles and makes me pull away in mock protest, he makes his way between my legs. With the edge of the quilt in my hand, I lift it to see his smiling face between my knees. “You’re trying to distract me,” I say. Pressing my lips into a firm line, I try to hold a serious face. “Smith Eppington. You better tell me what I want to know.”
Smith takes the sides of my panties and pulls themdown and off my body with one fierce tug. It’s playful, but so damn hot at the same time. Some noise exits my mouth, and it makes him smile, his good side wider than his bad. I shake my head. “Is it working?” he asks, then kisses the inside of my right thigh. “Are you distracted?” His warm breath on my skin clenches my core. He drags his lips up and down, inching his way higher.
I adjust my legs and try to calm my breaths. “I don’t see how I can’t be distracted with my underwear on the floor and your head between my legs. I don’t forget,” I say. Tapping the side of my head, I finish, “I’m like an elephant.”
He licks the inside of my left thigh and runs his hands under my nightshirt, up and down the sides of my rib cage. I shiver. Tipping my head back, I close my eyes.
“An elephant isn’t what I want to think about right now,” Smith growls. “I’d ask you how you like this, but I honestly don’t care. I’m starving for you. You’re wet. I smell you.” With his lips pressing against my skin and the disappearance of my panties, he’s turned into a lust-crazed man. A man I’ve wanted to meet since I first laid eyes on him.
