I lean in to kiss the corner of that smirk. “I knew he was good at fighting off bad guys,” I say. “I had no idea he was such a naughty guy himself.”
“Only when inspired,” he replies, and I laugh, remembering our conversation in the café earlier.
“So what else inspires you?” I ask, settling into his arms.
“Music mostly,” he replies. “If we’re talking that kind of inspiration.”
“What type?”
“Indie bands, classic rock… Little bit of everything really. It’s the best part of my day sometimes, just heading into the stock room to get everything ready, listening to the perfect playlist.”
“Make me one sometime?” I ask, and then feel my cheeks flush. Was that weird to ask? Is this just a hookup, can we do things like make each other playlists?
But Zayne is already nodding, his eyes bright with ideas. “Definitely. I know what to put on it already.”
“You do?”
He tightens his arms around me. “I thought of the perfect song the moment I met you.”
I laugh. But he doesn’t. I turn in his arms to meet his eye. “Really?”
“Sometimes people just do that. People who really click with me. It makes a song come into my head, and I want to share it with them…”
“Can you play it for me?”
He reaches across me for his phone. For a moment, I regret the lack of warmth where his arm had been a moment before. But then he’s back, phone in hand, and I snuggle into his side as he cues up the music.
I’ve never heard the song before. Don’t recognize the band either, but I love the rhythm. It’s an acoustic guitar, and a soulful singer, singing about a girl he once met, but never knew her name. It’s sweet and sad all at once, and as I curl up against his side and listen to the lyrics, my head fills with a pleasant buzz. This feels right. Zayne feels right. I don’t know how to describe it.
When we finally drift off an hour later, my body curled up to his wrapped around me, arms around my waist, cradling me against him, I have one last thought before I drop off into sleep.
Uh oh.
5
I wake up the next morning, and for a moment, I’m disoriented. This looks like my apartment. Sounds like my apartment. There’s the same distant blare of traffic and the same slant of sunlight through the standard-issue blinds. But the bed feels softer beneath me than I’m used to. And I’m warmer than I’m used to, too. Mostly because there’s a very warm body curled against mine, and a strong arm wrapped protectively around my waist.
I shift a little and feel something else press against me. A hard, thick cock prodding my ass.
Then I remember last night. Everything from the coffee date all the way to our wild session on the couch. I smile and turn my head to peek over my shoulder.
Zayne blinks at me, sleepy, still waking up. But he probably has the same idea that I do, because a moment later, he shifts his hips against mine, and his cock digs harder against my ass.
“Good morning, sexy,” he murmurs.
“Morning, hot stuff.” I grin. He kisses me softly and I smile into it. Then I wriggle my ass, let it grind against his cock.
“Still thirsty, I see,” he comments when we break apart. I laugh. But he doesn’t. He pushes gently against my upper back, bending me forward into a tighter curl. “Be careful what you wish for, naughty girl.”
“What if I’m wishing for you to punish me, though?” I ask, and bat my lashes just a little.
“Hmm…” He hums a little under his breath as he traces his hands over my back, down my spine to cup my ass on either side of his cock. He spreads my cheeks and lets his cock slide between them, along my slit. Then he runs his hands back up my back, massaging lightly. “Then I’d have to say, be careful what you wish for,” he finally says.
I feel the bed shift as he turns to reach for the nightstand. I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and for a moment, his cock leaves my backside as he slips it on.
Then he’s back, hands sliding around to my front now. He massages my breasts, one at a time, taking his time, kneading them hard before he pinches each nipple, rolling it between his fingers until they’re hard. He pinches my right nipple harder, enough to make me gasp, and then he grins and kisses the back of my neck.
“Was this what you had in mind?” he murmurs against my skin. “Me punishing you, taking what I want from your body…”
“It’s yours,” I whisper. “Do with me what you wish.”
“Oh, Clove.” His hands slide down the flat plane of my stomach to my mound. Flattens against it, and his forefinger grazes my clit. “I plan to.”