Auggie let us in his back door after we left Tod and Stevie, and I thought it was a good thing that, after he closed it, he used his key to lock it.

So, yes, it appeared I wasn’t going home that night.

That was more than a little all right by me.

It was good I had my toothbrush, a pair of sleep shorts, a tank, my cleanser and moisturizer and a clean pair of panties in my bag.

“You want another glass of wine?” Auggie asked.

“I’d like to spend the night,” I blurted.

The indicators were there.

But one shouldn’t assume.

“I’d like that too,” he replied.

“And just to confirm, yes. I still want you to come over for dinner tomorrow with Juno and me.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

“And I can’t believe this is going to come out of my mouth, because I think I’ve made it relatively clear that I want to have sex with you again,” I began.

His perfectly formed lips twisted in a near-grin. “Yeah, you’ve made that relatively clear.”

“However, tonight, if it’s okay with you, I just want to be with you,” I concluded.

He didn’t say anything.

“Or we can have sex,” I added quickly.

“You just want to be with me,” he stated, like he was trying out words he wasn’t certain fit.

“I want you for you,” I stated. “I don’t want you for an orgasm. I don’t want you in order to get something out of it for me. To make myself feel desirable. To end a dry spell. To feel more solid in what we’re building,” I explained. “I just want you. To be with you. Just for you.”

He again didn’t say anything.

But this time, he spoke before I could get in there.

“You’re making it super fuckin’ hard not to jump you right now.”

It went without saying it was pretty much all the time that it was super fuckin’ hard not to jump him too.

“I’d be down with connecting intimately, Auggie,” I said quietly.

He took in a deep breath that expanded his broad chest.

He let it out, saying, “Yeah, and we’ll do that. When the time is right. So, to sleep in, do you need one of my tees?”

I felt my throat close, such was my emotion that we were going to do this, he was going to give me this.

That being, letting me give him something.

And he was going to give me…

Him.

That bore contemplation too, how much that meant to me.

But that was also for later.

“I brought some stuff to sleep in, but yes, I want one of your tees,” I told him.

Because I so totally wanted to feel Auggie’s shirt on my body.

Warmth moved over his face and he reached a hand to me.

I took it.

He led us out of his kitchen.

His place wasn’t big, up front, a large-ish room that was living at the front, dining at the back, this fed into the kitchen.

After we hit the living area, I grabbed my bag from where I’d dropped it in one of his armchairs and he led me up the stairs.

Small landing, three doorways leading from it.

“Office at the front,” he said. “Bathroom, middle. My bedroom here, at the back.”

He then pulled me into his room and flipped a switch that turned on a flush-mounted, modern, overhead light fixture that had kickass black accents.

His room was painted a warm, true blue. The accents were white, other lighter blues, darker ones and grays (these mostly in the striped rug that covered the wood floors).

It was tidy, almost excruciatingly so.

The bed was made, the white comforter turned down at the top exactingly, to the point I had a feeling I could put a level at the edge of it and see how straight the fold was. The comforter was also tucked under the mattress. A stone-blue quilted bedspread was perfectly folded across the end of the bed. Pillows in white pillowcases were stacked precisely with pillows in shams at the head of the bed.

There was nothing on the boxy nightstands, including lamps (there were adjustable wall-mounted reading lights, also black, above the headboard on either side of the bed).

There was nothing on the tallboy dresser except a bonsai tree in a cobalt blue pot.

The only other thing in the room sat in a corner. It looked like a piece of art made of shiny silver metal with holes in it, shaped like an oblong with the top cut off, and if I stood beside it, it’d come up to my hip.

His bedroom was like the rest of the house.

There was style, definitely. And there was something to be said about his minimalistic décor, clean and uncluttered. It gave a sense of peace.

But it was neat and orderly to the point it was regimented.

Something else to talk about.

Auggie let me go to walk to the dresser where he opened a drawer, grabbed a tee and came back to me.

Tags: Kristen Ashley Dream Team Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net