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Until I told him I wanted more.
He didn’t pick up on my somber mood because the subject of our conversation was already so dark. It was a relief I didn’t have to pretend I was fine, to give false answers to his questions.
We had dinner at the table in silence then returned to the living room. The game was still on, but he hadn’t seemed interested in it from the instant I’d walked inside. He returned to his spot on the couch, his stomach still flat despite the dinner he’d just had.
This time, I sat beside him on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest to get comfortable.
He grabbed the blanket on his side of the couch and handed it to me.
I pulled it over my body, touched by the gesture.
He stared ahead and looked at the TV. “Let me know when you want me to take you home.”
I thought my sour mood would make me want to leave, but knowing there were other women in his life made me want to stay. He said there was no one else, so if Sofia was another fling, he’d lied about it.
But maybe she was an old fling…who still wanted him.
If I left, would she replace me?
I didn’t want to vacate my spot so someone else could take it. “I thought I could sleep here.” It was almost ten in the evening.
“I’m not in the mood to fuck.” The words were callous, rough on the ears.
“Neither am I.” I just wanted to be with him. It was nice to sleep in that soft bed with his strong frame beside me. I never did sleepovers after Liam, but now I craved them. It was nice to have a big man beside me again, to feel safe all through the night. My fingers were always in contact with his warm skin, the powerful muscles underneath. It was comfortable…to not worry about anything. I didn’t think I’d feel that way for a long time, but it happened so quickly. Damien had to be special to make me feel that way. Really special.
He swallowed the last of his scotch and turned off the TV. “Then let’s go to bed.” He entered the bedroom and did his nightly rituals like I wasn’t there. The sound of the running faucet and the hum of his electric toothbrush escaped the bathroom.
I stripped out of my clothes and found a t-shirt in his top drawer. I pulled back the crisp, soft sheets then slid inside, my skin feeling the gentle friction move past. My phone was left on the nightstand, switched to silent mode, and I waited for him to join me.
He stepped out of the bathroom in just his boxers, his muscled frame so perfect, he seemed to be chiseled from stone. His back was the most impressive, every single muscle prominent to create beautiful lines on either side of his spine. He had narrow hips that led to muscled thighs. He turned off the fireplace so the flames disappeared, then returned the booze to the wet bar.
I stared at him, watching him turn around and walk toward the bed. His strong pecs mixed with his powerful shoulders, and the beautiful abs of his stomach were the topography of a mountain range.
He turned off a couple lights then got into bed beside me. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he closed his eyes. His final deep breath left his lungs, his body sinking into the mattress.
It was obvious he was miserable.
I welcomed myself to his side of the bed, immediately feeling the warmth that radiated from his body like the sun. My face moved to his shoulder, and my arm hooked around his waist, comfortable instantly.
He didn’t ask me to move.
I liked sex…but I liked this better.
I watched his calm expression as he quickly drifted off to sleep. He was perfect at every angle, the shadow on his jawline giving him a rugged look that was irresistible. Soft lips sat in a face of sharp cheekbones and intense eyes. He was beautiful, the definition of perfection.
I didn’t want to sleep because I wanted to continue to stare, but he made me so comfortable in his bed, made me forget about all my problems that would still be there when the sun rose.
When I woke up the next morning, he was in the shower.
I could hear the water running.
I was so comfortable that I didn’t want to move. Even after a full night of rest, I didn’t want to get out of his nice bed. I wanted to roll over and go straight back to sleep. The sheets smelled like him, and the imprint of his heavy body was noticeable under my fingertips.
He stepped out of the bedroom with a towel around his waist. His hair was slightly messy from the dampness, and the drops of water that gently dripped down his chest made him look like a cologne model.
