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When I reached her, she was arching her back off the mattress and wiggling as if trying to escape something under her.
“Wha...eww. Oren Michael Tenning, have you been eating crackers in bed?”
“What? No.” She knew my middle name too? I wasn’t surprised. “What kind of dork eats crackers in bed?” I sniffed at her nerve for even suggesting such a pathetic idea. “They were potato chips. Cool Ranch Doritos.” Because I was a cool guy.
She let out a big, disappointed sigh as if she thought I was hopeless. “Lovely. I have cool ranch crumbs coating my butt right now.”
“Mmm.” That actually sounded hot. “The better to lick off you, my dear.”
I reached for her to do just that, but she swatted my hand away, grumbling about the crumbs. As she sat up, I could hear her dusting herself clean, so I reached over to blindly slap some of the crumbs off the mattress.
“There,” I offered as valiantly as possible. “All gone now.”
Her answer was a disbelieving sniff. “You need to clean these sheets before I visit you again.”
I was so busy drifting off into a daze, thinking about the phrase, “visit you again,” and liking the idea of more encounters with her, I rattled off one of my habitual Ten answers. “What? And give up all the slut cooties I’ve accumulated over the years?” I even gave an audible gasp and set my hand against my heart, because fuck, that’s just how I rolled.
She stilled. When I actually felt a cool draft waft off her, I realized, shit, I’d just fucked up big time.
“Please do not tell me you’ve had other women on this bed since the last time you cleaned your sheets.”
Double, triple and quadruple fuck.
“Um...sure.”
“Oh, sick. Oren!” She started to climb off the side. I knew if she left now, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be coming back, so I dove after her and tackled her under me.
“No. Wait.”
She growled as I rolled her onto her back. Then she shoved at my shoulders. “Get off me. Now! I can’t believe you—”
I kissed her silent.
I have no idea how I knew that would work, but shit, it actually did. She accepted the thrust of my tongue and even kissed me back. Then she went and wrapped her legs around my waist and dug the heels of her feet into the base of my back as her nails sank into my shoulders.
I broke off the kiss, panting hard, and pressed my forehead to hers. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
Her answer was just as breathless. “Why not?”
“Well...” Shit. I had nothing. Talking from the top of my head, I said, “One. You know I’m an asshole. I don’t...I mean, I’m not ever going to think of shit like...like cleaning sheets and wiping away all the past women. I’ll probably always be inconsiderate and...and...you know me! You’re my stalker. You know my work schedule, how to get into my cell phone, my middle name, what kind of fucking soap I use. Don’t tell me you don’t know what an ass I am, too.”
She seemed reluctant at first, but she finally said, “Okay, you have a point.”
“Damn right, I do. And two...”
“Two?” she prompted when I didn’t come up with a two fast enough.
“Shit. You know me. I’m an asshole.” Really, why did I need a two when one seemed to cover it all?
She laughed, and my pulse settled some. “Don’t go,” I said more softly and reached out to find her cheek. Her breath caught and it caused something massive to shift in my chest. “Stay.” I leaned in to nuzzle my nose up the side of her neck. “Just a little longer.”
“Why?” Her voice was raspy and soft; it caused my thoroughly exhausted dick to stir. “You’ve already had your way with me.”
I didn’t tell her I was ready to have it again. There was a vulnerable little hitch in her voice, as if she thought sex was the only thing we had going, when actually it was supposed to be. But I didn’t like thinking my soft-skinned, dirty-minded midnight visitor was h
urt.
I took my mouth off her delectable throat. Turning onto my side, I faced her, resting an elbow on my pillow and my cheek on my hand. With my free hand, I found her hip and began to crawl my fingers up her side. “Let’s do something, then. What do you want to do?”
