There’s no way I’m sleeping. No friggin’ way. The sun is coming up, and I haven’t closed my eyes once since my last orgasm. Why? Oh gee, let’s see. Maybe because I’m still riding the high from four hours of earth-shattering sex? Or huh, could it be the fact that I’ve never been so sexually satisfied in my life, and yet I’m still hungry for more? No, that’s not it either.
I know exactly what it is that’s keeping me from drifting off. I don’t want to miss a second of what’s happening right this very second. The sunrise peeking through the windows confirms my excitement.
Cameron stayed the night. As in all night.
Not only did he stay the night, but he’s sleeping. As if things couldn’t get any better, they do. He has his front to my back, his arm wrapped around my waist so tightly that his hand is tucked between my hip and the bed. Holding me. Holding on to me while he sleeps.
He said he wasn’t going anywhere and he didn’t. After he disposed of the last condom, I fully expected him to get dressed and walk out, but he shocked the shit out of me when he crawled back into bed, pulled me to his body, and with a toss of the sheet to cover us, fell asleep.
The heat of his breath tickles my shoulder, and I pray that the sun doesn’t wake him. I pretend that he’s mine, that we’re in a committed relationship and this is how we wake up every morning. My mind takes me to a fantasy where I’m the priority in his life, so much so that he can’t even sleep without having his hands on me. If only I could be that for him.
A low grumble vibrates against my back, and his arm squeezes tighter around my middle. It’s hard to breathe, but totally worth it.
“Shit, what time is it?” His deep morning voice against my ear sends goose bumps down my arm, but they quickly fade with the realization of what’s about to happen. Fantasy over. He’s leaving.
“Early.” I can see my phone from here and know it’s almost five-thirty in the morning, but I keep that information to myself, hoping it’ll buy me some more time.
“Mmm.” He groans and stretches flexing his hips into my ass, but never releases his hold on me. “Slept like the dead.”
I’m grateful he can’t see the sure-to-be-ridiculous embarrassing smile that sweeps across my face. “Me too.” No, I didn’t, but what I did was better.
He nuzzles my neck. “Smell fucking amazing, Eve.”
My tummy flips, and I tilt my head for him, welcoming his lips as he brushes featherlight kisses over my bare skin.
“You work today?” More kisses and the rough drag of his stubble along my shoulder.
“Um . . . not ’til four.” If only he didn’t have a million-dollar fighting league to run, we could stay in bed all day. “You?”
He groans and drops to his back, releasing his hold, which I immediately miss. I roll over and prop my head on my palm to watch him scrub his hands over his face and push up into his sex-messed hair.
“Yeah.” He turns to look at me, and I fight the urge to bury my face in my hands.
I must look like shit: no makeup, hair all over, bloodshot eyes from no sleep. My cheeks heat and my chin dips to my chest as I shimmy my fingertips through my bangs. “I look like crap.”
With a gentle tug on my hair, he gets my attention. “No, you don’t.” He pushes his fingers through the long strands to my nape. “Have breakfast with me.”
My stomach drops and tumbles with excitement. “Breakfast?”
“Yeah.” He stares up at me, his eyes the color of chocolate, they’re so dark. “You eat breakfast, right?”
“I do.” I nod, probably a little too eagerly.
“Right, so let me buy you breakfast. It’s the least I can do after you let me barge in on you.”
Wait, is he trying to pay me back for last night? Rather than kicking some cash to his whore, he’s buying me food. Would I care if that’s what this was? Nothing more than a perk after a night of amazing sex?
“Sounds great. Let me get dressed and freshen up.”
I move to exit the bed, both excited and frustrated at myself for feeling that way. He hooks me by the neck and pulls me down to his lips. A warm, soft kiss and I’m melting into him, my body jump-starting at the memory of his mouth all over me just hours ago.
“Smell good. Taste even better.” He kisses me one last time, and I slide off the bed and head to the bathroom dizzy.
I’m going to do this. His intentions may not be the same as mine, but I can pretend. Booty calls, one-night-stands with the occasional meal, it’s more than what I’m used to, and if I can get the occasional night in his arms while he sleeps, it’ll all be worth the eventual meat grinder I’ll be putting my heart through.
Ten
Cameron