Deep.
Wet.
Hard.
I clung to him, wanting more.
He gave it to me.
Sinking together into the mattress, he felt better than I had imagined.
He claimed me, branding me with his touch. His hands were everywhere, stroking my arms, slipping under my tank to caress the skin, ghosting up my side, making me shiver and my body hum in ways it never had with anyone else.
His phone vibrated, and we pulled apart, gasping for air. He dropped his face into my neck, his hot, heavy breath on my skin, then pushed off me and answered his phone.
“On my way.”
We stared at each other.
A tender, loving expression crossed his face, while the sweetest smile curved his lips. He leaned down, pressing a series of light, affectionate kisses on my face. My cheeks, nose, and forehead all were swept with his full lips, then he brushed three tender kisses on my mouth. He slipped my glasses back in place—I hadn’t even noticed him taking them off.
“Forgive me. I can’t seem to stop myself where you’re concerned. I see you and all I want . . . all I need, is to feel you against me.”
“I feel it, too, Daniel.”
“Good. But, I’ll try to behave like the gentleman my mother taught me to be and less like a raving sex-starved Neanderthal when I come back, okay?” His fingers danced across my cheek. “I want to know you. All of you. It’s not just about this intense draw I have to you.” He inhaled. “I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life. Ever.”
“Me either.”
He lifted me up so I was standing in front of him. He frowned and rubbed my arms. “You’re still cold. Where is your little jacket thingy?”
“Oh. It’s rather old and delicate so I didn’t want it stained. I took it off while I cooked.”
He disappeared through a door and came back holding a beige knitted sweater. He helped me shrug it on and laughed as he rolled up the sleeves. “That will keep you warm. Plus, I turned on the fireplace in the living room. Since I’m not home in the day, I didn’t think about how chilly it would be in here.”
“I feel much better now.”
“Good. Now before I leave, I need three—”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. I peered up at him, knowing what he wanted.
“I love watermelon.”
He beamed and nodded for me to continue.
“I love animals, but never had a pet growing up.”
“Your parents didn’t like them?”
“No, they were fine with it, but that sort of ties into number three. My grandmother lived with us, and she was allergic.”
“Ah. Is she . . . ?” He let the question hang in the air.
I shook my head. “She died when I was fourteen.” I swallowed the lump in my throat I always got when I thought about her. “I still miss her.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged, unsure what to say next.