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“We should, but we could also just sit here for a bit longer. I don’t want to move.”
Ultimately, it was my uncomfortable jeans that made my decision for me. Despite the urge to melt into him and never leave, I separated. “Let me get changed, we can doze until you have to go to work afterward.”
He nodded, his eyes a weight against my back as I walked to the door with my bag, only to pause and look over my shoulder. “Where’s the bathroom?”
He blinked, seeming to remember that he hadn’t told me that, before standing with a grunt. “Right, sorry. My brain tends to run a few minutes slower when I’m tired.”
Easing past me, he walked across the hall to another door. He opened it and gestured inside. I walked in, taking in the decorations with mild surprise.
It was a typical bathroom with a shower, tub, and toilet, but what was odd was the rug, toilet cover, and other small decorations hung inside. I’d never seen a man who thought to decorate his bathroom with them before, yup Rio and Oliver cleared his throat.
Rubbing a hand over the back of his head, he shrugged. “I was raised in a house where women outnumbered men, and by the time I bought this place, they’d hammered it into my head that a house isn’t a home without a few small touches.”
That was endearing, and it explained the throw blanket over the back of the living room couch I’d seen. “Did they buy the blanket in the living room, or did you?” I asked, and he shook his head.
“Neither. Mom made it for me as a housewarming present when I bought this place. I have no idea what she made it out of, but it feels divine. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever had and probably ever will.”
Somehow, I could just imagine his mother making him a blanket because she worried he’d get cold. A smile tugged across my lips, and I nudged his side playfully. “She sounds nice; does she have baby pictures of you too?”
He groaned, his hand smacking into his forehead and dragging down dramatically. “I should have known you’d go there. May as well get it out of the way; yes, she does. As well as a few dozen embarrassing stories she’ll be dying to tell you, I’m sure. She has pictures of my awkward acne phase all the way back to when I was a baby naked in the bathtub.”
He rolled his eyes at the last one. “What is it with you women and taking that picture? She made a point of getting one of every last one of my siblings and I, and she put them at the front of the photo album. There’s no escape from it.”
I barely managed to muffle my laugh in time, turning it into a cough instead. He shot me a dry, amused look.
“You can laugh, it's fine. When you see it I won’t hold it against you if you laugh then too. Just for all that’s holy in the universe, donotbring up prom.”
I raised a brow, and he sighed. “I’ll tell you later, but please?”
If it mattered that much to him … “Alright, is there anything else I shouldn’t bring up?”
He snorted. “For the most part you won’t have to bring up anything, she’s going to drown you in embarrassing photos of me the minute you meet her. She usually forgets about prom, though…”
Then he rolled his eyes. “Unless one of my siblings reminds her, in which case, there’s no avoiding it.”
What happened at his prom?
Shaking that off for later, I nudged his side. “You can tell me or not tell me whatever you want, later. I need to change so we can crash for the night.”
He gave a fake pout, even jutting out his lip. “You mean I can’t stay and watch?”
This time it was my turn to laugh. “Can you keep your hands to yourself?” I asked and he tipped his head, deeply considering it.
“I doubt it, but really, why would either of us want me to do that?”
That heated spark came back to his eyes and I shook my head. “I’m almost scared to ask how fast your recovery period is with this look.”
His grin turned devilish. “I got a nap almost immediately after our interlude earlier; trust me when I say I have the energy to go quite a few more times.”
Hadn’t he been tired before?
Asking just that, he barked a laugh. “Jen, the day I pass up being between your thighs or feeling your skin under my mouth for the sake of catching a nap is the day you bury me. Besides, I want you wrapped around me in bed and I want to beconsciousto enjoy it. The sleeping bit will come later”
So he was cuddly, too? Good to know.
Biting my lip, I eyed him up and down, and then shrugged internally. Before he could say another word, I caught the hem of my shirt and flipped it over my head. His laugh choked off and his eyes glued to me, the heated intensity from before coming back as I wiggled out of my bra and put both of them to the side.
I pulled off my pants next, enjoying the way he couldn’t look away. When I went to pull the nightgown on though, his hand brushed my hip, stopping me.
