Easy Kisses (Boudreaux 4)

I stare dubiously at all four of the trays on the table by the window. “We should call someone to come get those.”

“I figure we’ll just order more food soon, so what’s the point?” He plants his lips on my head and hugs me tight.

I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to all of this affection. Simon gives good hug.

“I should get up and start getting ready to go.”

It’s been hanging over me like a cloud all day. Each time I look at the clock, I count the hours that I have left with him.

Now it’s only two.

Suddenly, I’m flipped onto my back and he’s hovering over me, his arms flexed and strong next to my shoulders. His pelvis is cradled against mine, and my hands happily find their way down his spine to his rock hard ass.

God, his ass is ridiculously amazing.

“What are you thinking?” he whispers.

“I like your ass,” I reply and watch with wonder as his face lights up. It does that a lot when he looks at me. “I’m not much of a deep thinker.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says and rocks his hips, making my eyes cross. He’s growing against me and I can’t wait to feel him inside me again.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking—” he presses his mouth to mine, but rather than kiss me, he just rests here, barely touching me, watching me. “That I’m going to make love to you right now, and then I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon pampering you.”

“That sounds nice,” I reply, enjoying the way his mouth tickles mine. I feel him reach down to protect both of us, then he rears back and slips effortlessly inside me, then stops when he’s buried balls deep. “God, you feel good.”

“You feel bloody amazing,” he says and leans back so he can brush my hair off my cheeks. His fingertips lightly dance over my skin. “You’re beautiful.”

I clench around him and arch my hips, but he doesn’t pick up the speed.

“We always take things fast,” he says and kisses me again. “But this might be our last time together, and I’m going to take it soft and slow, love.”

My eyes want to fill at the thought of this being our last time, so I close them and bite my lip as he begins to move in long, slow strokes.

“You are simply breathtaking,” he whispers. “Open your eyes, Charlotte.”

I comply, relieved that the tears have passed and now I’m simply caught up in him, his body, his voice, his incredible eyes.

“You are amazing,” I say and cup his face in my hands. You’re so much more than the sex. But I don’t say it, I just kiss him and am caught up in this unbelievable wave of lust and affection, and before long I have the most intense orgasm of my life.

“Fucking hell,” he groans against my lips and falls apart with me. We hold each other tightly for a long moment, and then without a word, he rises from the bed and walks into the bathroom. Before long, I hear the bathtub start and he comes back into the room wrapped in a robe and holding a smaller one out to me. “Follow me.”

“Now you want me to be modest?” I ask with a laugh, but he just smiles.

“Trust me.”

I do.

I shrug into the robe and follow him into the bathroom. The tub is filling with a delightful aroma of lilacs.

“There aren’t any bubbles.”

“It’s oil, not bubble bath,” he replies, but turns to me. “Would you prefer bubbles?”

“No, this is great. It smells wonderful.”

“Have a seat.” He points to the vanity chair, and I comply. “Face the mirror.”

“You’re terribly bossy.”

He just cocks a brow, and I do as he asks. He moves up behind me and brushes my hair out as we wait for the tub to fill. I haven’t had anyone else brush my hair since I was a child.

Well, my hairdresser doesn’t count.

“You’re good at that,” I comment.

“You have pretty hair,” he replies. When it’s brushed thoroughly, he pulls it up into a knot on top of my head. “There, it won’t get wet.”

He’s so thoughtful.

He takes my hand and leads me to the tub. He opens the belt and parts the robe, and lets his hands duck inside to tease my breasts and glide down my sides before slipping my robe off my shoulders.

He hangs it on the hook behind him, then turns and helps me into the tub.

“Oh, this is nice.”

“Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.” I sink down and let out a deep sigh of contentment. We’ve had a lot of sex this weekend. That coupled with the walks around the lake and my muscles are weary.

This bath is exactly what I needed.

I close my eyes and lean back, listening to Simon bustle about the room, and the next thing I know, he’s lathered up a washcloth and is dragging it over my body.

My eyes fly open to find him sitting on the vanity chair at the side of the tub, still in the robe.

“You’re not joining me?”

“No, this is just for you.”

I don’t understand him. I’ve never known anyone so selfless. It almost makes me feel guilty, and that’s something I’m going to have to think about later.

“You’re good with a washcloth.”

His lips twitch as his eyes follow his hand over my body.

“Tell me about the scars on your arm,” I say.

“I already did when we were hiking.”

“No, you told me the Cliffs Notes version.”

He scowls, but he begins talking.