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I didn’t know what would come of this, how we would be in the morning, when we were back to the normalcy of our lives without the Vegas lights.
But I shut out the thoughts and snuggled in the comfort of his arms because I still had tonight.
AUSTIN
I woke up exactly where I wanted to be—spooning Sydney on my bed.
When we’d stepped into my apartment, it was almost seven in the morning. We were walking zombies, but it didn’t stop us from making out for hours. Until I had to come to a full stop because if I hadn’t, we’d have been doing more than making out. My body had wanted her, but my mind had told me to wait, be patient. When I made love to Sydney, she wouldn’t be drunk, we wouldn’t be zombies in the early morning, and it wouldn’t be quick. I would savor every part of this woman when the time came and when she was ready.
A part of me wanted her to stay asleep even though it was late in the afternoon because I knew once she woke up, things would be different. But I had hope and was determined it would be different in the best possible way. I was already preparing a speech in my head, making a plan to woo her.
She stretched, lifting her arms above her head and pushing her ass in my direction, which was a bad idea. I groaned and automatically rubbed my hardness against the boxer shorts I’d let her borrow.
She turned around, her eyes flying open, then sat up. She pushed back hair from her face. She had a mess of a bedhead that was adorably cute.
Next, she pulled the blanket toward her, covering herself chin high.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice croaky.
“Almost three in the afternoon.”
She blinked wildly. “Omigod. Where’s my phone?”
I didn’t give her a chance to create distance between us. I tugged the sheet, pulling her against me, then flipped her to her back, startling her, trapping her with both hands and holding her wrists down against the bed.
Her smile was glorious, and, man, did it knock the breath from my lungs.
“Austin …”
“Sydney …”
“I have to get going. I must have missed a million calls.”
This was true because I’d heard the ping of her phone go off every few minutes.
“You don’t know Addison.” The crease between her eyebrows deepened. “She’s a worrywart. She’ll be telling the other girls to call the police and quick.”
I could see that in Addison.
“Have breakfast with me,” I said, leaning in to kiss her neck.
“I can’t,” she said breathlessly, though her body told me otherwise.
“Or you’ll be my breakfast.” I lavished kisses up and down her neck to her ear and back again.
“Austin …” She moaned out my name, and I dropped my body against her, anchoring her leg above my hip.
I met her lips, pushing my hardness against her center. “Better than waffles, better than bacon and eggs …” I flicked my tongue against hers.
“Morning breath,” she said, turning away.
I took her chin within my fingertips. “This mouth”—I ran my tongue between the seam of her lips—“is the sweetest mouth I’ve ever tasted.”
Her body was languid and needy beneath mine, and my cock was ready, wanting, the tip pushing through the top of my boxers.
When she gripped my biceps, digging her nails into my skin, I pressed myself flush against her. Her audible groan sent me over the edge as I devoured her lips like she was the last woman on earth.
My hips ground into her center as my hand moved from her hip, to under her shirt, caressing her breast through her bra, pinching at her nipple.
