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In the last fifteen minutes, my heart has expanded from watching her extract all her pleasure from me. I have to fight the urge to blurt things out. Things like “I love you,” and “Marry me.”
Even though that’s precisely what I’m going to do.
TWELVE
Leela
What in theever-living fuck was that? Was it sleep sex? Morning sex? Soul-to-soul, I-love-you sex? It felt like all of the above.
That last possibility leaves me utterly rattled. Never before have I ever not brushed my teeth first before morning sex. Or woken up so dirty from the night before’s activities, only to start again.
We are both covered in each other, yet why am I not sprinting for the shower? It makes no sense. I am an easily yucked-out kind of girl, but this man. This man. Nothing is what I think it is. He’s shattered all my expectations.
He made me want him. He made me want to reach for him and take him.
And then, I’d fallen asleep for a second, third time after that dicking. Drifted off to sleep in his arms. And now I’m wide awake, the sun shining through the window, and I have no idea if time exists anymore.
I sit up in bed and immediately feel that delicious twinge in my vagina where he stretched me. I feel weak again, and I smile.
A grunting sound makes me look up, and I see Crosby rising from the bed, bare ass naked in front of an open window like it’s no big deal.
As if he feels me watching, he looks back at me over his shoulder and grins.
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to get a shower.”
I shake my head. “You go first.”
“We go together,” he says.
“Come on,” I start to say in protest.
“Or one of us has to wash up cold. Up to you.”
I don’t want a cold shower, and I wouldn’t want him to have a cold one.
“I’m nothing if not a sweet Southern accommodating woman,” I say.
Crosby laughs all the way to the shower.
I wait for him to test the water temperature, then ask if it’s hot enough for me.
This small, sweet gesture makes me smile. I test the water, and I nod. “Perfect. But I don’t think both of us can fit.”
He doesn’t respond verbally but shoots me a dark, glowering look, pulls me in, and closes the sliding door.
“Turn around,” he orders.
God, he’s so bossy. But I like it.
“Usually, I’m the one bossing people around.”
“Oh, I know,” he says, massaging water through my hair, stroking the top of my head with the flat of his palm to keep water from getting in my eyes.
“That’s right, you already know everything about me,” I say with a smirk.
“Arms up, Kitten.”
