“Well, hell.” She laughs again, and I lead her to my bathroom. “It’s all yours. Freshen up, and I’ll leave a shirt on the counter.”
Walking back to the living room, I collect our dishes and take them to the sink. I don’t know what to expect. Will she cry? Should I let her have the bed alone?
No. I won’t rush her, but I won’t leave her alone.
The dishes are in the dishwasher, wine glasses in the sink, and I pick up my phone, touching the face to reopen her text. She needed me. Twice.
Warm satisfaction buzzes in my stomach. I can’t help a grin as I look at her name lighting up my phone. It’s the same way her smile lights up my insides.
I’m back in my bedroom, pulling off my dress shirt, ditching the slacks. I’ve just pulled on my jeans when I hear her calling me from the bathroom. Dropping my tee, I head to where I left her.
“Everything okay?” I stop just outside the door. It seems ludicrous to be so formal, considering how well we know each other, but I wait for her response.
“I need a bigger towel.” Pushing the door open a crack, I peek around to find her standing near my shower, hair pulled up and skin damp, a small hand towel clutched against her breasts, just skirting the tops of her thighs.
My hand drops from the doorknob, and her expression changes. Eyes wide, I see no sadness or fear, only heat. She draws me to her as if by invisible ropes. I cross the small space and wrap my arms around her shoulders. The small towel drops, and her bare breasts are against the skin of my chest. Her hands are at my waist, her face on my neck, and I exhale a soft groan.
Hands down, this is the best feeling on the planet.
For the space of a several heartbeats I simply hold her, feeling her skin melting into mine, shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest. The only thing between us being the jeans I haven’t removed. Then I lean down to claim her mouth.
Our kiss is gentle, but intense. She tastes like the water from the shower, and she feels like heaven. Her lips part, our tongues curl together, and we stand, holding each other, making out in my bathroom.
She’s soft and easy in my arms. Our lips chase each other’s, tongues teasing. I kiss the side of her jaw, pulling a bit of skin between my teeth. She exhales a little noise, and I raise my chin.
“Oh, Amy,” I sigh, hugging her firmly against me.
My eyes close as I breathe in her scent. Tonight it’s not cinnamon. Tonight she smells like the crisp linen of my body wash. I love it.
I love her.
Shit. I love her. It’s the truth.
“I want to make love to you,” I confess.
Her face is pressed against my neck, and she doesn’t move. I feel her arms tighten at my waist, and I tighten my grip over her shoulders in response.
“If you’re too tired, I can wait.”
Her fingers lightly trace lines up my back, and she kisses the top of my chest. Her hands go around between us, reaching up to my cheeks, where her fingers line the sides of my jaw. My arms are still around her, and looking down, she’s in a cocoon, breasts pressed together, hands on my face. I never want to release her from this spot.
Her soft voice says the words I’m longing to hear. “I want you to make love to me.”
For a moment, I don’t move. I hold her in the shelter of my arms, of my body. She fills that space in me so perfectly. It’s always been waiting for her to appear. I didn’t know it. My eyes move around her face, this woman who is perfect for me. Her eyes stay on my face, blinking as she waits for what I’ll do next.
“Amy...” So many things I want to say. All of them will have to wait.
My brow clutches, and I only hold her, feeling the tension in my chest twist. She has to be mine. She’ll let me make love to her again tonight, yes, but in the morning, I won’t be able to let her walk away. In the morning, she’ll have to stay with me.
“Marcus,” she whispers back.
Her eyes are on my lips, heavy-lidded and sexy. Her lips are full and ready to be kissed. I’d venture to guess if I released my hold on her and slid a hand between her thighs, I’d feel her luscious wetness ready for my invasion.
“You’re staying with me.” It’s a low order. “I’m not waking up in the morning to find you gone.”
Pink lips tighten. She takes a breath before blinking up to me. The battle is brief, but she nods.
It’s enough. I lean forward to claim her mouth once more, plundering her depths with my tongue. She matches my strength, holding my shoulders as I lift her in my arms and carry her back to the bed.