I winced up at her, only for my breath to stall in my chest. Standing in the open doorway of her bathroom, she wore a worn oversized T-shirt-looking thing where one sleeve was threatening to slip off her right shoulder. It fell to mid-thigh and made her legs look incredibly long. My brain momentarily stalled out, imagining those legs wrapped around me as I tugged up the hem of that shirt and pushed inside her.
God…damn.
I shook my head and managed to meet her eyes. Then, with an innocent wince, I answered, “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “It was a spider, wasn’t it?”
“No,” I started, shaking my head.
With a sniff, she glanced at my shoe. “Just tell me it didn’t look like a mama spider that probably had a million other baby spiders that are probably hiding out in here somewhere, too.”
Obliging, I nodded. “It totally looked like a single man spider, one of those playboy bachelors afraid of commitment and children and all that shit.”
She finally cracked a smile. “You are so full of it. But thank you.”
When she started forward as if to hug me for getting rid of the spider, I rose to my full height to receive it, but she jarred to a halt and gaped down the length of my body. “Oh,” she said breathlessly. “You’re…”
“Was this okay?” I asked, spreading my arms and looking down at my jockey shorts. “You said you were changing into your pajamas, so I thought—”
“No, no. This is fine.” She waved a hand and smiled at me, only to glance uncertainly toward the bed and then back to my chest. A huge breath heaved from her. “So…” She licked her lips like it was a nervous gesture. “How are we going to do this?”
I’d never seen her look so uncertain before. It was cute.
Taking over, I said, “Like this.”
I grasped her hand to lead her to the bed, where I lifted the blankets for her to slide under. Then I flipped off the lights and used the streetlamps flooding into the room to guide me back to her. Once I burrowed in beside her, I pulled her close and kissed her hair.
She melted against me and slid her hand across the surface of my chest before kissing my shoulder. “Tonight’s been…weird,” she said in the dark of the room.
I kissed her hair and took her hand, drawing the picture of a spider on her palm with my index finger. Blowing out a breath, I agreed, “It’s definitely been something.”
“We kissed,” she reminded me. “Our first kiss.”
I smiled and pulled her closer. “Yeah.”
“You’re not a bad kisser.”
“Thanks.” Beaming, I nudged my hip against hers and teased, “You could use some work.”
She gasped. “Excuse me?”
My body shook with all the silent laughter I was trying to contain as I added, “But I’m sure with sufficient practice, we’ll get it right.”
“You are such a liar.” She poked me in the side, only to pause. “Wait. Are you drawing a freaking spider on my hand? Mason!”
When she jerked her fingers away in righteous indignation, I cracked up laughing out loud.
“Oh my God, I love you,” I hooted. “I can’t believe you were more offended by that than me calling you a bad kisser.”
She sniffed mutinously. “Yeah, well… There’s no way I’m actually a bad kisser. I’m awesome at everything.”
“Truth,” I murmured, still grinning.
She still sounded petulant when she muttered, “And I love you, too,” before she settled back against me and softened into my arms. “Now give me your hand so I can draw a creepy, scary picture on you.”
I willingly handed my fingers over, and she set to work on me.
“A flower?” I guessed two seconds later.