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Chapter Fifteen
Savannah
On Tuesday morning slowly, I woke slowly.
Before opening my eyes, I knew that Ryan hadn’t woken yet—the fire was quiet, I could feel the slight dip of mattress behind me, and then...the slow deep breaths of a deep sleeper.
Gently, I rolled to my back and looked over my shoulder at him.
On his own back, Ryan had an arm thrown over his head, bunching the top of the pillow downward, and his other arm was curved slightly, allowing for his hand to rest on his stomach. At some point, he’d tossed the comforter from his upper body to rest near his hips. Even the sheet was pushed down to his lower stomach.
Here I was, sleeping in a long sleeve thermal shirt with a tank top underneath, with unattractive sweatpants on, and I was comfortable, and there he was, in a tee and shorts, getting rid of covers as he slept.
Oh, to be so warm blooded, I thought with a chuckle.
He’d always been that way.
A one-layer kind of guy, where I had to wear multiple layers to stay warm.
When you were out and about, you could always remove layers; you didn’t necessarily have the ability to add them.
With that thought...
My head started to play “removing layers.”
First, the layers of clothing were my own. Then, they were Ryan’s layers...
And suddenly, I was wide awake.
The last thing one could ever call me was a morning person but with thoughts of Ryan’s bare body over mine...
I could be a morning person with the right motivation.
Knowing that this morning was our last one in the cabin, and that in just a few hours, life would go back to normal—or so I thought—I wanted this.
I wanted him.
I wanted us.
Feeling brazen, I rolled to my side to face him, and slowly pulled the sheet down to where the comforter rested, then took both, and pulled them down to Ryan’s mid-thigh area.
Through his sweatpant-type shorts, I could see the heavy outline of his cock, resting to the left. From this vantage point, I knew he wasn’t full, but I also knew he wasn’t completely lax. That visual person that I was, I was suddenly thinking of his cock growing to stand tall, and just like that, I could feel myself becoming slick between my thighs.
I wanted to take advantage of that near-morning-wood state of his, but wanted the full deal to be all on me...
We hadn’t broached this line again though, and because Ryan was clear in his wanting to wait, I had fears of his reaction. Would he be pissed if I put my hand on him? My mouth?
My heart racing—in anticipation rather than anxiety—I made up my mind. I knew how I would go about this.
I placed my hand gently on his stomach, just under his. My thumb brushed alongside his pinky as I lifted myself toward him, so I could press my lips to his cheek.
A small kiss there, a small kiss to his cheekbone—the man had great cheekbones; it truly wasn’t fair—and then a small kiss to right in front of his ear.
His breath hitched, held, and then was released with an audible sigh.
“Ryan,” I whispered.
When he didn’t respond, I tried again, my voice still soft. “Ryan...”
