Page 121 of Blue Jean Summer

Catherine

“Mmmm.” I hummed and smiled to myself as a trail of warm kisses snaked up my neck. “Good morning to you too.”

Soft light filtered in through the cracks in the drapes that covered the windows in Hayes’s bedroom.

“Today’s the day.” His sleepy timbre was delightfully arousing.

I stretched like a cat until my muscles strained, then I coiled into his chest. “I’m surprised I slept at all.”

His hands were gentle but firm as he rubbed soothing circles up and down my back. “You’re welcome for wearing you out.”

I snickered into his bare chest. “We probably need to get the blankets and pillows out of the loft before someone finds our little sex nest.”

“Our sex nest, huh?”

“Whatever you want to call it. We need to go clean it up before Mason gets the wrong idea.”

Hayes’s replying laugh was dark and devious as he peppered my shoulder with kisses. “What if I like having a sex nest?” He nuzzled deeper, grazing my skin with his teeth. “You’re such a good girl. Sometimes I like seeing how bad you can be.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Think about it,” Hayes said as he licked around the shell of my ear, sending delightful showers of arousal dancing down my spine. “Having spots all over the estate for a quick fuck whenever you need it.”

“Yes,” I panted as I arched into him.

Hayes pushed up the shirt I had stolen from him to sleep in and cupped my breast. “We haven’t christened nearly enough of the house.” His thumb rolled over my nipple. “So many rooms to make love to you in…not enough time.” He gave it a sharp pinch.

I nodded blearily as he palmed my breasts. “Need…more.”

A rich rumble reverberated through his chest. “More what?”

I squeezed my legs together, trying to ease the ache. “Time.”

His touch softened. “Blank check, sweetheart. You can have it all.”

The ache didn’t dissipate. It simply migrated to my heart, then my head. Hayes and I had tumbled down the rabbit hole into something neither of us had anticipated.

This shouldn’t have worked. We shouldn’t have worked.

“I should get up,” I whispered remorsefully against his lips. “I have a lot to do before this afternoon.”

“Everything is ready,” Hayes said as he rolled away from me and sat up. He opened the prescription bottles on his nightstand, dropped two pills into his palm, and rinsed them down with a bottle of water he kept beside them.

I stared at the ceiling and ran through my mental to-do list. It should have been strange sleeping in Hayes’s room. Usually, we slept in mine. But lately the house had started to feel like home. There wasn’t my space, his space, or the estate’s space. It was ours.

Even though I hadn’t legally changed my last name, I had grown accustomed to responding to “Mrs. Wilder.”

“Enjoy it,” Hayes said. “You’ve worked hard for this.”

I caught his hand before he got out of bed. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He flashed a cheeky grin. “You’re waking up without an orgasm.”

“For doing this with me.”

Those heart-stopping eyes that were constantly assessing and evaluating began to soften. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did.” I squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have had the land for the program. New connections to donors to really make it worthwhile. Somewhere to go after my mom passed…”