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Eli, who’d insisted she come home and stay with him.
Sleep in my arms.
She had. She opened her eyes when he kissed her shoulder. She’d fallen asleep facing him but must have rolled over in the middle of the night. She faced him now. He was propped on his right elbow, hair a mess, eyes hooded and sleepy. Sun poured through the blinds, casting him in yellow light, making his blue eyes shine.
She didn’t speak. Neither did he. She wondered if he was also turning over the significance of this being the first night they’d spent together. Waking up to him felt strangely normal. She was comfortable here—comfortable with him.
He lowered his face to hers, slowly, as if testing her reaction. She gave him the kiss he requested.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his morning voice rich and deep.
“Better than I would’ve thought.” Hers sounded more like she’d smoked a few cigarettes.
“That’s good.”
“Thanks for letting me stay last night.”
He pushed her hair away from her eyes. She’d slept on it wet, so no doubt she was rocking some serious floppy bedhead. “No thanks needed, Sable.”
They shared another quiet moment before Eli leaned forward again. This time when his mouth moved on hers, he opened, an invitation for her to go deeper. She accepted, her tongue tangling with his, warm and wet. He slipped his hand beneath the sheets covering her, palming her breast and thumbing a nipple. Her truncated breaths filled the air as her hand sought his shoulder.
“Eli,” she whispered as his fingers brushed over her belly, closer, closer to where she wanted him. He paused, as if he was unsure, so she gave him permission. “Touch me.”
He kissed her again, cupping her intimately before he dipped a finger along the seam of her.
“Wet,” he said, his voice low and reverent.
“I want you.” She gripped his biceps and parted her lips to let loose a gasp when he continued to tease her. Eli watched her as she watched him, his fingers dancing between her folds, unseen beneath the blankets. Each slick glide drawing her closer to the abyss.
Raising one hand, she palmed his beard, stroking her thumb over his bottom lip as she writhed from pleasure that only his attentive, rough touch could deliver.
He moved his fingers faster, faster…until she clutched and came, her eyes squeezing closed as her body bowed off the bed. Heart ratcheting, bloodstream pumping, she lazily opened her eyes to take in the man who’d guided her to the pinnacle with little effort.
He’d known what she needed last night. And he knew what she needed this morning.
“How do you do that?” she asked on a pleased sigh.
He placed a kiss on her nipple, then on her lips. “Do what?”
“Know what I need.”
“You seemed tense.” His lips tipped, his eyes blinking in that ultraslow way she found enticingly sexy. “Now you don’t.”
She let out a long hum of satisfaction. He wrapped a hand around her butt, squeezed, then let go to fall to his back.
Isa rolled over and wrapped an arm around his bare chest, admiring the swell of pecs and biceps, the tattoos that swirled over his arm. Flowers and waves, a sunrise, a cross. A plethora of scenery and images that meant enough to him to be immortalized on his skin for as long as he was on this planet.
“Your body is beautiful,” she murmured, dropping her chin on his chest.
There was a palpable hesitation in the air, one she didn’t ignore.
“I guess guys don’t see themselves as ‘beautiful.’” She traced a line down his chest and drew a circle around his belly button with the tip of her finger. His abs tightened, each bump standing out from his skin. Her fingers followed to his cotton boxers. He was hard and ready and grunted when she gave him a gentle squeeze.
A rough exhalation tickled her cheek and she wiggled into a comfortable position on the bed. On her side, chin on his ribs, her fist gripping the thick ridge of him.
“You are, though,” she said as his eyes sank closed. “Completely beautiful.”
***
