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CHAPTER FIVE
Sunday, June 6
I waketo the sounds of birds singing. Dozens of them. Their songs are happy, short and filled with messages mere humans can never fully comprehend. I secretly wonder if all their chattering isn’t talking about us. Sizing up us non-flying bipeds. Delivering their verdict on how well we take care of the world they live in. Well, Miss Insecurity wonders, anyway.
During the night, I’ve inched away from Connor and am on the edge of the bed now. I stretch and pull my arms over my head, letting my back twist and arch to relieve the stiffness of sleeping so hard and so well all night. I have seriously got to get a set of these sheets.
“Stop writhing around in my bed like that, or I won’t be able to keep my ‘no sex’ promise to you, Lainey Bird.”
I turn and see Connor half-sitting up in the bed. He’s typing on his phone, no doubt handling matters at one of his restaurants. How many did Tori say he owned again? I can’t remember. Even with just one, he’s a very busy man. He’s got to be.
“Sorry, I can’t help it. I want to stay in this bed forever. It’s so comfy and warm.”
Connor tosses the phone onto the nightstand and rolls over onto his side so that he’s facing me. He props his head upon his hand and gives me that little trademark smile he makes when he’s amused by me. When he does it, his eyes twinkle. Or maybe his eyes twinkle and that’s why he smiles. I can’t tell. I just know that when he does it, it sends a rush of happy warmth that slides over my skin and seeps into my bones. And the aftereffects linger with me for a while even after the smile fades.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” A solitary finger reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my face and then curves around to my jaw. When it gets to my chin, he removes it.
“I can’t. I’ve got too much to do.” My body flexes so I can sit up, but Connor rolls over on top of me, pinning me down with his body over mine. His entire hard length is hovering inches above me. His breath, warm and inviting, brushes across my face. He’s so close, I can see tiny flecks of black inside the blue irises that give them such a deep hue. My breath hitches and I realize I’ve stopped breathing. I catch it again when he speaks. His voice barely hovers above a whisper.
“It’s Sunday. There’s nothing that has to be done on Sundays.”
“I need to look for a job today. I could get some interviews lined up for early next week.”
Connor leans down in a push-up and kisses me. It’s soft at first, but quickly transforms into something deeper, hungrier and so filled with lust it leaks from his mouth and drips into mine. I swallow it down inside me. I can feel an erection pressed against my belly and I know he wants me. I reach to touch him. My fingers skate over his hip and then up to his waist, when he suddenly breaks our kiss and rolls off of me back to his side of the bed.
He’s lying on his back staring at the ceiling. His breathing is a bit ragged.
“Sorry about the boner. It’s pretty impossible not to get turned on with a beautiful half-naked woman in my bed who lets me kiss her like that.”
I laugh and roll onto my side now so I can see him. His eyes are closed and I can tell he’s working to restore his breathing and wrangle in his lust — for now.
“No worries, Tarzan. But I seriously need to get up. What time is it?”
“Almost eleven.”
“What?” I audibly gasp. The last time I slept past seven was the morning after I’d passed out at theJourney’s End. I’ve never slept past nine. Ever. “It’s so late.”
I throw the covers off of my body and nearly jump from the bed. Walking around Connor’s side of it to get to the bathroom door, I feel him reach out and grab my wrist. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls me to him. Mr. Swellington hasn’t left the building just yet, I note as I’m brought down onto his lap with a hard thump.
“We need to have a talk. Get a shower. Meet me downstairs, and we’ll have some coffee.”
“A talk?”
“Yes, but not here. I can’t think with you in my bedroom, wearing my T-shirt and that whole tousled sexy look. And I need to think.”
Inner Sex Goddess just did a roundoff back handspring with a half twist. Who knew I had a “tousled sexy look”?
“OK.” I get up and can’t help but glance downward to take a peek at the thick stick I’ve been sitting on. He tries to tuck it away with a surreptitious flick of his wrist but, seriously, the man is huge. He’d need a full-on demolition crew to pack away that stack of concrete he’s got in his shorts.
“Sorry about him,” he says, giving me a shrug.
“No, you’re not,” I say, grinning. I return his gesture with a wink and a coy little smile, which is the best version of flirting I can muster before I’ve had coffee.
“I’d lock that door if I were you,” he says, teasing. But I do click the lock into place before I strip and step into the warm shower.
I have to admit, I’ve never had a sleepover with a man before. It was nice to enjoy all of the sweet parts of sharing a bed without the stress of sex. My poor Inner Sex Goddess has gone quite a while without it. Seven years to be exact. Strangely, I haven’t missed it much. Sex for me has always proven to be stressful and messy and leaves me with everything hurting so badly I want to stay in bed for a week. Especially my heart. And my heart always took way longer than my body to heal. I like being able to enjoy getting to know Connor without that kind of pressure. And the fact that he is turned on by me isn’t a downside. It makes me feel pretty … sexy even. So Inner Sex Goddess is happy. But I also feel respected. So Miss Insecurity is also happy. And both of them have to be happy or whatever this is will be over before it starts.
I wash my hair and my body with Connor’s assortment of soaps and shampoos and towel off before sliding on the clothes I wore yesterday.
