And the way he bent me over the bathroom vanity and fucked me while watching in the mirror with hungry eyes.
And the way we ate those grapes in his bed, our damp hair on the pillows, music playing on the rich-guy, invisible stereo system. The best night of my life had been set to a sound track, like a movie with a beautiful set and really high production values.
Then… more of those kisses. Who knew I even liked kissing that much? Not me. It had always made me feel too vulnerable.
Hell.
I glance at Neil, and his sleeping face gives me an unfamiliar melting sensation in my tummy. His hair is mussed, and his lips are parted in slumber.
I’m used to seeing Neil as a sexy beast, but sweet, sleepy Neil is hard on my heart in a whole new way.
His eyes blink open, and he smiles at me. “You watching me sleep, wifey?”
Guilty, I look away. “I was just wondering what time it is.”
His hand leaves my hip so he can squint at his smart watch. “Eight thirty. Do you have to work?”
Slowly, I shake my head. His head lands on the pillow, and his smile returns, sexy this time. “Good, I have big plans for you.”
“You do?” I ask carefully. Because my plan is to go somewhere Neil isn’t and quietly freak out.
“Oh yeah. A decadent night deserves breakfast in bed. Otherwise, we’re doing it wrong.”
My stomach rumbles obligingly. “That sounds nice.”
He reaches over and plays with a lock of my hair. “Totally. I need food and coffee, and then I need a small favor from you. I have a plan.” His grin turns wicked.
“What kind of favor?” I ask warily.
He laughs, and then, like sexy spatulas, his arms lever beneath me and slide me close. “Last night you were down with every single dirty plan I made for you. If you want to pretend otherwise, though, you go ahead.”
My bare back makes contact with his hard chest, and I feel a shimmy in my nether regions.
This is all very bad news. Those hours of effort I’d expended resisting Neil? They were wasted. I’m basically a light switch he can turn on or off just by touching me.
“Don’t be smug,” I complain. “Just tell me your big plan.”
“Well…” He kisses the back of my neck, and I squeeze my lips together to avoid a whimper. “…I’d like to measure my living room.”
“Um, what?”
“Focus, kitten. If I’m buying a new couch, I need to know what size the place is.”
“Extra-large,” I point out. “They haven’t invented a sofa that won’t fit into your living room.”
“Good to know. But I don’t want to screw up the couch twice, you know? You can hold the other end of the tape measure. We should measure the old couch, too.”
“Fine,” I agree. “Just as long as you don’t try to have couch sex on it. I don’t need those buttons embossed on my butt cheeks.”
Neil cracks up, and his fine abs contract against my body. “What would they say in the locker room?”
“Let’s not find out.”
He chuckles. “Okay, here’s the plan—you start the coffee, and I’ll order breakfast sandwiches from the deli. And we have breakfast in bed.”
“Okay,” I say, scrambling for the edge of the mattress. I need a moment alone to gather my wits, and he’s just given me an excuse. “I get the bathroom first.”
“Of course, you do.” I can feel his heated gaze on my bare body, but I refuse to turn around to acknowledge it. “What kind of egg sandwich do you want?”
I have never felt more naked than I do right now, as I cross the room toward the bathroom. “Surprise me.”
After a two-minute shower and a moment with my toothbrush, I make coffee in the kitchen. Wearing a Bruisers T-shirt that I stole from Neil, I’m prepping two mugs when he calls out from the bedroom, “Breakfast is on the way!”
I pour milk into the mugs and take a deep, cleansing breath. So what if I slept with him? I don’t have to make it weird. Just two adults having a romp. People do it all the time.
Not us, though. Until last night on the seat of a damn limousine. Part of me can’t believe that happened. And other parts of me want to do it again.
With one more steadying breath, I carry the mugs into the bedroom. Neil has donned a pair of flannel pants and nothing else. Reclining against a mountain of pillows, his computer propped on his rippling abs, he looks like a dream.
My blood fizzes again, and my pulse kicks up a notch. Who even needs coffee? I’m buzzing on post-carnal endorphins and a good night’s sleep.
“Aw, thanks, wifey.” Neil takes a mug and gives me a big, happy smile. “Now sit your sexy ass down beside me while I google furniture sizes.”
I take a sip of my coffee and hesitate. Neil and I need to have a talk, but all I can do is stare at his incredible chest.
The door chimes, so I set my coffee down. “I’ll get it!”
“I tipped him already,” Neil calls after me as I leave the room again.
I float toward the front door, reminding myself that this is temporary. The food deliveries, the fluffy towels, the giant shower with three heads, the fancy coffee and the incredible sex.
Sometime soon the clock will strike twelve, and I’ll turn into a mouse again.
That’s just the way it is.
After egg sandwiches with cheese and bacon, we measure the living room. Neil writes down the measurements in fastidious handwriting in a small notebook. When he sets the notebook on the corner desk, I realize I never gave him the couriered envelope that had arrived when he was traveling.
“Hey,” I say, trotting over to the desk and finding the envelope. “This is what I signed for while you were gone.” I offer it to him.
“Oh, thanks.” He takes the envelope and tears a corner off. He slides his finger into the opening and then… stops.
He sets it on the desk again.
“Do you want me to give you some privacy? I don’t want to crowd you if that’s personal.”
He blinks. “No way. I’m not ignoring this because it’s private. I’m ignoring it because I’m in a really good mood right now, and I don’t want my uncle to tank it.”
“Oh.” My heart flutters. “What if it’s important?”
“It won’t be. Because I decide what’s important.” He pulls me into a hug. “I have a game tonight.”
“I know,” I say against his chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be at morning skate?”
“It’s optional. I skipped it.”
“Really?” Neil is always such a hard worker. “Do you skip the optionals?”
“I did today. Seems like a good decision so far.”
I swallow. Hard.
“So here we are, with a morning off together.” He runs a hand up my back. “And you seem jumpy.”
“I’m not jumpy,” I say, because arguing is a reflex. “But we need to talk.”
“About last night, kitten? It was amazing.” I wait for another smug comment about his performance or my willingness. But it doesn’t come. “What do you want to talk about?”