Baden’s forehead rests on mine and he murmurs, “So fucking close.”
I can’t voice the same, not because I don’t feel it, but because I feel it all too well. I’m there. I’m on the edge.
I make the leap.
I cry out as a second orgasm snags me hard and my back arches off the bed as my hips drive upward to pull him in deeper. Baden jerks, drives hard into me, and stiffens as he groans out a long, tortuously beautiful release.
We cling to each other, shuddering and panting and soaking each other in.
And then we drop back down to earth—well, the mattress—and I’m utterly spent. Baden somehow rolls us to the side, his length still in me, and pulls the covers to our shoulders. He gathers me in close, my chin on his shoulder, his arms holding me tight.
And I fall dead asleep in his embrace.
CHAPTER 22
Baden
I stare at the ceiling in the dim, predawn hours, my eyes accustomed to the shadows since I’ve been awake a while. Haven’t been able to fall into a good sleep because my mind is whirring.
But I haven’t moved nor have I wanted to. I’m content to lie here on my back, one hand tucked behind my head, the other wrapped around Sophie’s warm body, which is half lying on me. Her legs are entwined with mine, and I feel such peace that I wish time would slow down and the sun would stay away.
There are no words to describe how we made love. I can’t adequately explain the froth of feelings that were produced, nor can I make sense of what Sophie and I have become to each other.
An evil, violent act introduced us. Fate brought us back together again. Healing wounds bonded us, and sex sealed it all.
She’s simply mine, and I’m hers.
I don’t waste too much time marveling at what has occurred because I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth. I appreciate that maybe something divine or mystical brought us together, and I’ll never believe we weren’t fated.
If there were ever any second-guesses over whether I made the right decision to leave behind my potential for a comeback career and try my chances as a coach in Pittsburgh, they’ve been laid to rest.
I’m where I’m supposed to be.
In fact, I’m so sure of that fact, if a fairy godmother appeared right now and offered to go back in time and erase the attack altogether—meaning I wouldn’t have crossed paths with Sophie—I’d deny the generous offer.
I am absolutely right where I’m supposed to be.
Sophie stirs slightly and sighs.
A peaceful sigh, a far cry from the tortured scream that brought me out of a dead sleep around two a.m. I’d never heard anything like it, nor do I want to hear it again. I don’t even remember racing to Sophie’s room, but I was driven to get to her and tackle whatever was scaring her. It’s unbearable having her in pain or distress.
And to hear that her dreams have morphed and are manifesting as guilt for running away after I told her to just about destroys me. God, I hope she listened to me last night when I told her she has to let it go, because I was being honest. About the only thing that would kill what we have is if she can’t let it go. I can’t have her watching me with guilt. It will bring guilt down on me, and it would destroy all the goodness between us.
She shifts again, sliding a silky leg against mine, and my arm tightens around her. She’s practically on top of me, and yet I don’t feel she’s close enough. Her weight and softness are heaven, and I’m already thinking of what a future like this would hold.
“Are you awake?” she asks softly, and it startles me slightly. I thought she was still deep under, yet her voice sounds clear.
“Yeah… not able to sleep very well,” I admit. She smooths a hand along my chest. “You feel too good. I don’t want to sleep and miss out on this.”
Sophie chuckles. “Well, I did actually sleep pretty hard for a while. You totally destroyed me with your wicked ways.”
I snort, because she destroyed me right back.
“What time is it?” she asks.
I pull my hand out from behind my head and look at my watch. “About quarter to six.”
“I’m wide awake,” she replies, snuggling in closer. “No going back to sleep for me.”
Me either, so I reach out and flip on the bedside lamp. We both blink a few times at the sudden flood of light, but I roll so I’m on my side facing her. Our legs are still intertwined, but she curls her arm and tucks her hand under the pillow. I lean up on my elbow, propping my head on my hand.
Leaning in, I snatch a kiss. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, and she’s smiling.
They flutter open and she murmurs, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I lift my hand, trace my fingertip along her jaw and down her neck where it gets lost in her hair. I pick up a lock and study it in the lamplight before giving her my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“You mean, physically?” she asks, her lips tipped in a lazy smile. “I feel deliciously used. Mentally… I’m all kinds of happy and exhilarated and a little scared. You?”
My smile is so contented, it should speak enough, but still, I reply, “Ditto.”
That makes her even happier, as indicated by the sparkle in her eye and when she lifts up to kiss me. My hand goes to her jaw, and I hold her there a moment as our lips linger.
When she settles back down, I decide to get something out of the way. “We had unprotected sex last night.”
Sophie’s eyes darken and then drop so she’s staring at my chest. I take it as a sign of embarrassment, so I lift her gaze with fingers under her chin.
“But it didn’t feel unprotected,” I continue. “It felt right in every way. Am I wrong about that?”
“I never thought about using any form of protection,” she admits candidly. “I was so caught up in you, someone could’ve waved a condom under my nose and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.”
We’re silent a second, considering potential ramifications. Finally, I offer, “If it helps, I’ve always been safe before. I’ve never not worn a condom.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t even want to imagine situations where you’d wear a condom.”
Her tiny display of jealousy actually pleases my heart, and I pull her to me. “Never wanted to be with someone before without protection,” I say, so she understands just how different she is from the countless others.
Sophie clears her throat. “Well… my experience isn’t that broad. I had a serious boyfriend in college, and he always wore protection. I’ve been with only two other men, one I saw for a long time, and the other a poor choice after a lot of alcohol while out with Frankie one night. Condoms were deployed.”
“Yeah,” I say, cutting in on the information, “I don’t need details.”
Sophie snickers. “Sorry. It’s just… only three in my past, and all have been done safely. But…”
Her expression becomes worried, and I know what she’s getting ready to say. So I finish it for her. “You’re not on birth control.”
Once again, her eyes shift away.