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Her head whipped to the bathroom. You could see the counter from her vantage point. “Are those my lotions? Is that my toothbrush?”
The realization dawned on her face. “You moved me into your bedroom without asking me?”
I stood back, hands in my pockets to stop myself from touching her. “Yes. You’ll stay with me while you’re here.”
Her lips twitched. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“And you couldn’t have asked me what I wanted to do?”
I took a wider stance. “You said this wasn’t a fling.” And if it wasn’t a fling, that meant it was something more, something real, and I damn well wouldn’t waste time with her sleeping in another room. We barely had time for each other living in the same house. We made little moments, but with her painting and me in my office most of the day, those moments felt fleeting. I wanted more and that meant having her in my room. At my whim.
Faith started twirling her hair. It wasn’t something she did often, but I found her doing it more and more around me. I made the formidable woman nervous. Excited and nervous. And when I swallowed the distance between us and her eyes lit up, her gaze dropped to my chest.
Instinctively, she spread her legs for me, welcoming me between them.
I was desperate to make her mine, but I wouldn’t do that while she was drunk.
I would however strip her down and cuddle. My latest obsession. I’d never been the type of guy that wanted to hang around afterwards. Usually I was too in my head, thinking about my work to enjoy the quiet time after sex. That wasn’t the case with Faith.
My hands found her hips and her sharp inhale made my cock hard. She moved her hands towards it, as if realizing she should ease the ache she’d caused.
I batted her hand away, pulling it above her head, locking it in place. “No touching.”
She squirmed underneath me, her lithe body rubbing against my jeans. My cock strained against the rough material. I nipped at her neck, and it became damn near impossible to pull myself away from her when she released a breathy moan.
“You’re killing me, Faith. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” she whispered in my ear. “Is this because I’ve been drinking? Because I stopped drinking hours ago.”
Fuck….
I kissed the tender spot behind her ear that she liked so much before peeling myself away.
Faith sat up on her elbows, her eyes trailing my body as I walked backwards toward the shower. “It’s cold without you.”
“And it’s going to be cold in the shower without you. Get some sleep, Faith. We can play in the morning.”
She harrumphed, and I laughed.
Halfway through the coldest shower of my life I found that I wasn’t alone.
Faith was there. On her knees. Ready to take me in her mouth.
“You’re seriously going to kill me.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
FAITH
Constance poured tea from a gorgeous, floral teapot. Delicate cups sat on saucers and little cucumber sandwiches were piled high on a tea tower. I purchased the sandwiches from a shop in town and asked them to supply us with macaroons and other teatime favorites. Constance supplied the tea.
We were due for a catch up.
As I took her in, I noticed something different. "You're glowing.”
Sebastian's mom couldn't stop smiling. She was generally a happy person from what I'd seen. She sipped her drink, so I did the same.
