But when he stretched her out on the mattress and covered her body with his, she stopped thinking about anything but the feel of his skin against hers. His mouth closed over her nipple and she arched her back at the sensation.
After the way he’d touched her in the shower, Liz was close and she wrapped her legs around Drew’s hips. “I want you inside of me.”
He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, chuckling, and the sound tickled her skin. “Patience.”
“No.” She reached between their bodies to stroke him again. He was so hard and he groaned when her hand closed over him. With her other hand she reached for her nightstand and pulled out the condom she always kept on hand, just in case.
He took it from her and she sighed when she had to release him so he could put it on. She loved the feel of him in her hand.
Then he nudged her knees farther apart, and she remembered she loved the feel of him inside of her even more. He rocked his hips, pushing deeper with each stroke and she skimmed her nails up his hips to his back.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, pushing her wet hair back from her face so he could see her eyes.
She lost herself in his gaze and in the feeling of him, raising her hips to meet Drew stroke for stroke. He quickened his pace, driving harder and faster, and when he hooked his arm under her knee, she gasped and clutched at his shoulders.
Her orgasm came hard and fast, taking her breath away. As it rocked her, she was barely aware of Drew saying her name in a low growl, his muscles tightening as he found his own climax.
He collapsed on top of her, his breath blowing hot across the sheen of sweat on her collarbone. She rubbed her hand up and down his spine, and he shuddered under her light touch.
“That was a great shower,” he said after a few minutes. “It doesn’t feel like that when Katie washes my hair.”
She slapped his shoulder. “I should hope not.”
“What?” He lifted his head, looking down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s the same thing. She’s washing my hair or you’re washing my hair. Why doesn’t it feel like that when she does it?”
“Because she’s not naked?”
“Mmm. Maybe that’s it.” He slid off of her. “Be right back.”
She was already sliding into sleep. There was nothing like a shower, an orgasm and your own mattress to knock you out after a week of sleeping on the ground. When the bed dipped under his weight, she woke up enough to snuggle against him and feel him kiss her hair, but then she was out.
The next morning, Liz stretched, not really wanting to get out of bed. She’d managed to ignore the alarm on Drew’s phone pretty well, but she was aware the volume of the cursing and banging in her kitchen was increasing. After a quick detour to the bathroom, she went to see what the fuss was about.
It was about the coffee, which had been her first guess. Drew held up the jar of instant. “Is this really all you have?”
“It really is. Throw a mug of water in the microwave and voilà.”
Because all of his stuff was still in his SUV, he’d put on the clothes he’d worn home yesterday, and he needed to shave. But he still looked delicious in her kitchen first thing in the morning.
“A man can’t live on a cup of microwaved instant coffee,” he grumbled. “I’m not sure a man can even call that coffee.”
“Poor baby.” She followed his gaze to the pile of mail spread out over her counter. Most of it consisted of brochures and info packets for various online classes. Very various. She couldn’t figure out what appealed to her, so she was looking into everything and hoping something would stand out.
“Going back to school?” he asked, once he’d glanced over and knew she was aware he’d been scoping out her mail.
“Maybe. Not sure what I want a degree in, so I haven’t signed up for anything yet.”
“Not much of a job market in Whitford.”
She shrugged, sticking two mugs of water into the microwave. It was a tight fit. “I pay Lauren rent month to month and my car will get fixed or replaced eventually.”
He didn’t say anything after that, which was fine with her. For starters, she hadn’t had her meager allotment of caffeine for the day yet. And she didn’t like talking about what she planned to do with her life because she didn’t know and that was starting to worry her. She needed goals, dammit, and that was not something to worry about before coffee.
But after the microwave beeped and she’d handed him his mug, he nodded toward the brochures again. “If you don’t even know what you want a degree in, why are you thinking about spending that kind of money?”
She shrugged. “Why not? A lot of people do it.”
“Is this about your brothers? It’s not a competition, and everybody just wants you to be happy.”