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I let my fingers slide down his face, over his jaw and chin, nails raking in the full, dark beard I love so much.
All right. Here goes nothing. No more procrastination. I’ve got to wake him up and tell him. Now.
My news won’t have the power to take away his jet-lag hangover or his tiredness, but I’ll bet my heart that what I have to say it’s going to make him feel better and get me that rarely bestowed infectious smile of his I’ve been eager to see again since our bedroom marathon put him to sleep.
I hesitate for a moment, and then I frown to myself. We haven’t seriously been talking about this, but it’s something we both wanted at some point, so I don’t know why I am so nervous.
Okay, Mia. Stop stalling.
I lower myself onto the bed and slide over until I’m close to him.
“Baby, roll over,” I whisper in his year, patting his back, and he complies without waking up. I’m tiny, and more often than not, I end up squashed under him in bed, which I absolutely love until I have to breathe again, and then I’ve got to get him moving, so he’s used to this.
Carson turns on his back and automatically pulls me onto his chest, a grunt of discomfort escaping his lips. I snuggle closer to him, my arms around him. Poor thing, he must feel achy all over.
I settle over him, my hands playing with my inked name over his pec and the springy smatter of hairs covering his chest.
“Carson… wake up, sweetie.”
He’s so deeply asleep that I have to call his name several times while my hands tickle him for him to finally come to.
He wakes up with a start, even if I’m pretty sure I was successful in keeping my voice barely above a whisper. “Mia…” he mumbles, his right arm holding me to him more securely now as his eyes flutter open.
I arch a bit to kiss him on the chin. “Hey, there.”
Carson yawns adorably and stretches a bit. “Have I been out long?” he asks, lips moving slowly for my benefit.
I shrug. “Not really… about six hours or so…”
“Fuck!” He shakes his head, sighing. He closes his eyes again.
“Headache?” I ask.
“No… but I feel like I went to sleep only five minutes ago,” he sim-coms.
I tighten my half-hug, plastering myself to his side. “My poor darling! I’m sorry I woke you… I… thought it would be best if you got some water in you… maybe some food, too.”
Okay, that’s the truth. But still, chicken much, Mia?
Carson kisses the top of my head and then pulls back, looking down at me. “Yes, to the water, but I don’t know about food yet, though I can think of something else that’s very delicious I could be eating right about now,” he says both with voice and signs, nearly not using any fingerspelling at all.
At this point, he’s pretty much fluent in ASL –both the regular and the dirty kind.
I giggle, and he reaches down to squeeze my butt.
I move away. “That’s tempting, my love, but no more of that for tonight! You need your rest.”
He pouts, mock-glowering at me. “What logic is that? You know I sleep way better after a nice fuck, especially if I get some cream with it, too.”
I roll my eyes at him.‘Not happening, Big Grumpy,’I sign, and he chuckles.
I try to move away, but he won’t let me. His lips fall down on mine in between our laughing.
I nibble on his lower lip to get him to stop and escape his clutches.
‘Where you going?’he signs, yawning again.
I pat his chest and sit up. “Just getting you some water…”
