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“Too many,” I responded, my lips barely touching hers, grinning, my hands beginning to work on the dress, playfully trying to make this last, even though I knew I wouldn’t make it if I tried. Placing my palm on her back, I took a step, pushing her back onto the bed just in time for her dress to hit the floor. She laid out in front of me, almost bare, heat rushing through her body as I allowed my eyes to roam over her. My heart stopped. “Fuck, Phe. You're gorgeous, the most perfect woman—”
She grabbed my neck, pulling me down closer to her. Her breath was heavy as her eyes met mine, full of want. "Do you remember our date?" she asked as kissed my neck. I let out a soft moan as she nipped at my skin. "I could feel you." Her hushed voice sent chills down my spine. Her breath caused my body to react in just the right way.
My hands acted on instinct, finding the spots I would touch all those years ago. I felt the goosebumps rise as I caressed her stomach, my lips kissing every inch of her as her fingers glided through my hair, guiding me along the way. I could feel her heartbeat when I kissed right on her breast, my fingers hooking onto her panties, slowly pulling them down her legs, my fingers sliding to where they desperately wanted to be. She arched her back, my free hand finding the clasp to her bra, her shoulder wiggling to allow the fabric to leave, my hand instantly cupping her breast, my thumb finding the right spot to make her gasp.
Touching her was second nature, something I didn’t know I needed to survive. How I had lasted this long without, I had no idea. The feeling of how soft her skin was, the way that everything was so new, yet exactly the same. I wanted to memorize her, to know every curve of her body, every place that made her gasp or moan—call out my name.
As if she read my mind, she spoke breathlessly, a soft whisper that jolted me in the best way, “Oh Clay. . . I need. . .”
“You feel the same—soft, warm, perfect. Like you belong here with me,” I said, my voice shaky and deep as I began to kiss my way down her body.
“Clay,” she moaned. I looked up at her, a smile on my lips as I watched her move. My fingers found her and slowly, I began to tease. She tensed, her entire body begging for more. “Ineedto feel you.”
Crawling my way back over her, I kissed her once again, gently this time, leaving her wanting more. I felt her hands as they found my belt working to undress me. Shivers, tingles, heat, passion. Our bodies fit together. They always had. And the moment I found her, the moment we became one, everything bonded together.
I woke up the next morning buried in Ophelia’s hair, my arm draped around her waist as we sprawled on the bed. The sun shone through the white curtains, the room quickly warming up. Ophelia had managed to put her underwear back on, and I had stumbled into my shirt and boxers, even though I knew they most likely wouldn’t stay on for long.
I gently rolled away from her, making sure to keep the sheet on her skin as I left the bed, all her warmth staying right there. Niko watched from the doorframe, knowing very well he wasn’t allowed in the guest bedroom. He sat with his tongue out, panting.
“Thanks for keeping to your mama’s room,” I whispered. I scratched his scruff and left the room, Niko close at my feet.
Once Niko was outside, I started the coffee, my entire being still in bliss from the night with Ophelia. I crossed my arms and leaned against the island, watching the coffee as it dripped into the pot, the smell filling the kitchen.
“Morning.” Ophelia’s voice came from behind me, her arms finding my waist faster than I could react. “You made coffee.” She yawned, her cheek resting against my chest.
She had dressed in a tank top and lounge shorts. She was comfortable, she was sweet, and damn, she was sexy.
“I am the master at coffee.” I kissed the top of her head, her hair still wild and free.
“Will you promise to always make me coffee? Or bring me Americanos?”
“I promise.”
Raising her head, she looked up at me. “Come to New York with me,” she said softly.
“Yes,” I whispered back, the only answer that mattered—but…
She gently kissed my lips, a soft hum as she pulled me closer.
“But,” I continued, “not now.”
She furrowed her brow and leaned back, her hold on my waist loosening. “What?”
“I can’t now. I may not have taken that job, but I need to get my company going. I can work from anywhere once it’s started. Elliot and Regina have already agreed to work with me from New York, but I need to do a few things first. I need to save the money. I need to pay back Milo, and I need to register my damn car. I can’t mooch off you while I start this.” I tucked her hair behind her ear, watching as her face relaxed. “I told you, no job, no matter how perfect it is, will keep me from you. Just give me time.”
“But you’ll come?” Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands clasped behind my back. I could feel them as they formed a ball, the pressure on my spine, reminding me that she was still very much there.
I lightly kissed her. “That was my plan. I belong there—with you.”
She let out a small hum, rolling her lips together, running her hands down my chest. Her mind was turning, maybe a little too hard, but when her eyes met mine again, she gave me a sly grin. “You’re allowed to mooch off me, you know. I know you’re good for it.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, I will not bemoochingoff you. I want to be able tosupportyou.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her. “I know, you don'tneedmy support, but I want to be able to in more ways than just holding your pin cushion. I want to be there for you—always. It’s not going to be easy. I need to prove to these potential clients thatI’mworth it. No doubt, they will have all heard about Jackson and Rye, but even the news declared my innocence. I shouldn’t be too nervous about it, but that feeling is always going to be there. I just need to prove myself.” I locked eyes with her, her eyebrows pinched. “Give me six months. My parents are expecting me when Milo and Madeline get back. I’m moving in with them and then New York. Six months is all I need.”
She shook her head. “No. No way. I can’t do long distance for that long. Two months.” She countered. She pointed at me, her features relaxing as she fell back into our rhythm.
I pushed myself off the counter and lifted her up, taking a few steps to the island, setting her down gently. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, and she leaned on my shoulder. Even with the lack of sleep, she looked rested and stunning. I couldn’t wait to wake up to her every morning, to have coffee and breakfast with her, knowing that it was going to be my life forever.
“Five months,” I countered back.
