Page 39 of After Care

“What was that?” I shrieked, the sound echoing in the quiet night breeze. He chuckled, and I felt it inside me, which is where I wanted to bury his laughter, storing it for after I left. I didn’t want to think of parting from him. Not yet.

“Number three in my room,” he teased.

+ + +

Once back at his room, I excused myself for his bathroom. When I came out, I found him stripped and sprawled on his stomach across his bed. I admired his backside—two fine globes that would make ancient sculptors jealous. He rolled to face me and patted the space next to him, but something in his slightly opened nightstand caught my eye. Slipping the drawer open further, my eyes widened. Lifting up the fabric, I peered over at him. His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“What’s this?” In my hand, I held the black scarf I wore, and lost, by the pool the other day. Turning back to the drawer, I found the scarf I left behind when he first took me doggie style against his bed. Red polka-dot material filled my hand. Last was a yellow scarf, the one I’d forgotten after that first introduction by the pool. He didn’t respond, his eyes hooded with his silence. My brows pinched but he still didn’t speak, only patted the bed once again. Staring back at him, my mind raced. He wanted someone who admired him for who he was not what he was. Collecting my scarves seemed to be a small statement. Was it possible Tommy Carrigan liked me for me? Despite my earlier boldness, I wasn’t strong enough to ask that question.

“I shouldn’t spend the whole night,” I said instead, crawling over him to what seemed deemed as my side of the bed. He remained on his back, facing the ceiling, and we each lay with our thoughts for a second.

“You know that thing you did, when we were at Ivy’s?” he asked.

“What thing?” My brows furrowed, completely uncertain what he referenced.

“Where you kind of hugged me from the back?”

My lips curled at one corner. “Sure.”

“I liked that. I liked that a lot, beautiful.” His voice lowered as if he’d just admitted the world’s biggest secret. Pressing a hand to his shoulder, I pushed at him. He glanced at me, and I did it again, signaling for him to roll to his side, his back to me. When he did, I scratched up and down his spine a few minutes and then scooted closer to him, pressing as much of me into the back of him. He reached for the arm I wrapped over him and dragged it to the middle of his chest, flattening my palm under his. I kissed his back a few times and his shoulders relaxed. His breathing leveled, and he drifted off to sleep. Without asking him my question, I answered my own about my feelings for him.

I like youTommy Carrigan the man, I quietly kissed into his skin. I like you a lot.

8

New Year. Orgasmic Goals.

I didn’t fall asleep, waiting until Tommy was deep at rest. Then I stood and dressed. I placed all my scarves back in his nightstand and reached for the bedside light when he gripped my wrist.

“I don’t like you sneaking out of my bed,” he said, his voice gravelly and gruff.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I need to get back to my room.” His sleepy body perched up on an elbow.

“That’s a first.” And he smiled slowly, groggily.

“What is?” I asked, still keeping my voice a whisper like I’d wake him.

“You call everyone else honey or baby, even that dumb ass Petty tonight, but not me. But now, you did.” He smiled like a kid ready to see Santa, and I swiped a hand over that prickly scruff that I liked so much then kissed him briefly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

His hand reached for the nape of my neck so quickly it startled me and I was pulled to his mouth, returning for more than the brief kiss I’d just given him. With a full onslaught attack, my insides leapt to life. If he kept that up, he’d get that third orgasm out of me, but I decided it wasn’t a good idea. I wanted earlier to be about him, not me. I pulled back after a minute.

“I wanted a piece of you,” he whispered, his eyes lowering to the nightstand. “Creepy?”

“Flattering,” I replied, my lip curling with the hope he wanted to remember me as much as I would remember him.

“There’s a concert tomorrow. I want you to be there. I’ll send tickets for you and the kids,” he offered, sitting upright.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, swiping at his nose, before he stood from the bed. My eyes questioned the movement.

“I’m walking you back to your room. But tomorrow, beautiful.” His wink was my warning, or better yet, my promise.

+ + +

When I returned to my room, I knocked on Masie and Caleb's closed door. Pressing it open, I found West and Masie asleep on Masie's bed. I should have woken him. I should have kicked him out, but they were dressed and he lay cradling my daughter to his chest. It looked innocent enough. All clothes on. On top of the bed. So, I left them wondering about Caleb to find him in my king size one.

“Hey.” I rustled his arm. “Hey, go to your own bed,” I teased. He rolled slightly, lifting his head from the pillow. “Masie and West are in there.”