I try to kick the blankets off me but something is holding them down. The harder I fight, the tighter they seem to pull in around me.
Blinking myself awake, I see Gavin’s body draped around mine. As gently as I can manage, I ease myself out from under his large frame. He makes a small noise of complaint but eventually rolls over so I can get out from under the covers. God, he’s like a human furnace. There is literally heat radiating from his skin.
A gentle pulsating throb alerts me to my never-ending need for the man in my bed so I kiss him softly on the back of his right shoulder.
It’s been such a rough few days, I know he needs his rest. We both do. And yet, he’s here, exposed and, for the time being, all mine. Our time together always feels so rushed, so temporary and frantic. I want to take my time exploring and savoring.
Running my fingers across his back and down his arm, I feel my need for him becoming more and more pronounced. Any physical contact with him whatsoever awakens every cell that makes up my being. I can’t help but wonder if it’s like this for everyone.
I scoot closer to his back, allowing my bare breasts to absorb his warmth. My hand trails lightly to his well-defined hip bones, dipping into the V just before his pelvis. I feel a bit like a pervy creeper, taking advantage of the access I have to him at the moment, but I can’t stop myself.
When I let my wandering hand venture to the patch of hair between his hips, he twitches and groans lightly. Stroking downward, I feel him rousing to meet my hand and then I am encircling him.
He’s already half-hard as it is, but a few slides of my hand and his erection springs to full mast. Being gentle in my ministration of his most important body part is obviously frustrating him, judging from the small exhalations of breath he begins releasing.
“Looking for something, Bluebird?” His voice is groggy but amused.
I duck my head against him when he rolls back slightly. “Nope. Found it.”
“Did you now?”
My mess of hair falls forward as I lean forward to kiss his mouth.
He captures my wrists in his hand and slides me gently to the side. “We should talk first.”
“Okay, then. Me first,” I say quietly, overwhelmed by the sense of vulnerability I’m feeling. “I love you, Gavin Garrison. I love the feel of you, the taste of you, the scent of you. I love the way you touch me and the way you make me feel.”
His eyes are on fire when they lock with mine. “I love you, too, Bluebird. More than should even be possible. More than I ever knew I could be capable of.” His hands grip my waist tightly, denting the flesh and claiming me as his.
His fingertips drift lazily up the backs of my thighs, tracing the lower curve of my backside, causing me to twitch in response.
“Can we stay like this while we talk?” I plead weakly.
With a low chuckle, he gives my ass a squeeze. “We could. But we probably shouldn’t. Wouldn’t get much talking done.”
“You couldn’t just let me lie here and die happy?” I tease. Truthfully, despite how aroused my naked body is, my heart is hammering into my skull with an urgency demanding I do whatever is necessary to find out what happened the year I was in Houston.
Gavin is a vault; he always has been. A beautiful, bruised vault hiding the world’s darkest secrets. Secrets I am equally terrified of knowing and not knowing.
He’s not Clark Kent or Captain America. I always knew that. Gavin is much more of a Bruce Wayne minus the money. He’s a dark hero fighting to be good when we all know he could go either way.
“I mean . . . I can,” he answers, stroking my hair and then my back. “If that’s really what you want.”
I sigh in his arms, soaking up the last ounces of vulnerable intimacy while I can.
“I’ll make some coffee,” I announce as I peel my reluctant body from his. Something about our closeness without having had sex seems more . . . primal. Or intimate. Or . . . I don’t know. It’s just more. “Sun will be up soon.”