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I’m pretty sure I fall asleep with a grin on my face.
???
When I wake up the next day, Nera is no longer in my arms and the bed is cold next to me. I’m immediately brought back to the penthouse the morning after we met, when I woke with an equally cold bed and an equally gone girl.
I don’t love the moment of panic that seizes me when I realize she left without a word.Again.
My heart squeezes in my chest as I sit and toss the duvet off me. I throw on my trousers from last night, reaching for a pair of shoes and haphazardly putting them on as I think about what I’ll do when I track her down and get my hands on her.
Dragging her back here by her nape is looking like the winning option, my mood storming to black as I angrily rip open my bedroom door.
I come to an abrupt halt, rooted to the spot when I find her in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, perusing the contents of my fridge as she stands on one leg with the other bent in a triangle, doing her best impression of a flamingo.
She looks over her shoulder when she hears the door opening, her eyes finding mine.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I say warmly, my heart rate leveling out to normal speeds as I realize she stayed.
Her gaze drops to my trousers, to the one shoe I’m still holding in hand. “Where are you going?”
I throw the shoe in a corner of the room and kick off the one I’m already wearing in the same direction.
“Nowhere.”
Nera nervously thumbs the hem of the shirt I lent her between her fingers. She’s awkward and unsure about having slept over.
I walk around the table to her, wrapping my arm around her waist and tugging her against me. My lips claim hers, savoring the taste of her first thing in the morning.
I pull back and her eyes flutter open with that lust drunk look I love shining in them.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” she says with a small smile. She inhales and releases a breath, her shoulders loosening. “I got up early to make you some breakfast but I’m hopeless, so here you go,” she turns and grabs something off the counter before extending it at me. “I poured you some cereal. You’re welcome.”
The skin of her cheeks flushes a pretty pink color as I grin and grab the bowl from her. Holding it with one hand, I pick up the spoon and take a bite.
“Mmm,” I moan, dramatically.
“What?”
“This is the best damn cereal I’ve ever had.”
Her brow smooths out and mirth twinkles in her eyes.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I think it’s because of the way it was poured. Not everyone can pour it just right, you know, it’s a real artform.”
She giggles, smacking my chest playfully. “Shut up.”
“No, seriously. It’s a real skill.” I bring my fist to her mouth, pretending it’s a fake mic. “Tell us, what is your technique?”
She laughs again, indulging me. “It’s all in the flick of the wrist.”
An aroused groan leaves my lips.
“You’ll have to practice that move on me later,” I whisper suggestively, closing the space between us. I cup her nape with my free hand and crush my mouth against hers.
