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Her walls strangle my cock and it’s all I can do to keep the pace steady to draw out her climax. When she collapses against the bed, I increase my thrusts until I’m pounding into her. Her breasts jiggle and I’m done.
“Indy!” I shout as I come.
I collapse on top of her. I should roll off her. I’m probably squishing her. But I can’t move.
“I love you, Indigo.”
I wait for a response. When none comes, I glance down at her. She’s out cold.
I chuckle as I roll off of the bed and go in search of a washcloth to clean her up.
Chapter 28
The L-word – four letters that are incredibly hard to say
Indigo
Isigh as I wake. Muscles I forgot I had are sore from spending the day in bed with Cash yesterday. I stretch my arms above my head before reaching for Cash. I pat the bed but he’s not there.
“Cash?”
When he doesn’t answer, I scan the room for a note. Maybe he went to the studio to do some recording. But I don’t see one. Panic begins to claw at me but I push it down. Cash didn’t leave me. He lives here. For now.
“Indy! Get down here and do something about your cat before I decide to try cat meat for breakfast.”
“On my way!”
I jump out of bed and throw a robe over my naked body before hurrying down the stairs.
“Don’t you dare…”
My words trail off at the scene before me. Cash is at the stove. He’s shirtless and his jeans are slung low over his hips. Oh my. His back muscles bunch as he moves the spatula around the pan.
“You learned to cook?”
“Judging from the burnt toast, no, I haven’t,” he mutters before glancing over his shoulder and smiling at me.
I want to see that smile on his face every single morning for the rest of my life. I want him in my bed every night for the rest of my life. I plain want him. I always have and I always will.
“I love you.” The words are out before I can stop them. I slam a hand on my mouth but there’s no way I can shove those words back inside.
Cash throws the spatula down and stalks toward me. He uncurls my fingers from my face.
“You love me?”
I shake my head.
“Are you lying?”
I shrug.
He smiles. “You’re definitely lying.”
I glare at him.
“You’re adorable when you’re mad.”
“I am not adorable. I’m not a two-year-old.”
