I should have felt embarrassed being around Cannon now. He’d seen me at my worst, and while it had sucked, he’d handled it so professionally that I barely gave it a second thought. And he’d been right. Once I got on the medication, things cleared up quickly, and I was now as good as new.
Cannon had been so sweet and attentive all week long that I almost didn’t want to burst his illusion that I was still under the weather. We hadn’t spoken of it, which was fine by me. I didn’t think there was a non-awkward way to say, “My vagina’s all better now.” So it was best to not say anything at all.
We’d eaten dinner together every night, each of us taking turns at the cooking, and he cleaned up the kitchen while I walked Enchilada. We fell into an easy rhythm, watching TV together at night until bedtime, when we hugged and went our separate ways.
But tonight, I wasn’t tired. It was half past ten when we’d gone to bed, and I’d been lying here awake for an hour. I knew a cup of warm milk would help me sleep, but I didn’t want milk. I wanted Cannon. Wanted to feel the way only he could make me feel.
Emboldened, I rose from my bed and tiptoed down the hall. Enchilada followed me.
Cannon was obviously asleep under the blankets, lying on his side. His breathing was deep and even. I lifted the blanket, crawling in behind him.
“Paige?” he asked, his deep voice laced with sleep. He rolled to his back and looked at me.
“I had a bad dream.” It was a lie. I was horny. And I was hoping he was too.
He opened his arms and I nestled in beside him, laying my head on his chest and hooking one leg over his waist. His heart beat steady and loud under my ear, and his male scent surrounded me.
Cannon released a heavy sigh, petting my hair back from my face. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”
“Thank you,” I whispered into the darkness.
I let one hand wander beneath the blankets to rest on his stomach, and felt his abs tense under my touch. With my own heart thumping wildly, blood thundered in my ears. I knew what I wanted, knew I needed to make the first move, but the fear of rejection was a big and real thing. Cannon could say no, and if he did, I would be crushed. And not just because I was horny, but because I craved the kind of physical intimacy we’d shared last weekend.
Drawing a deep breath to steady my nerves, I let my hand drift lower. I could feel the waistband of his shorts, and my fingers slipped beneath it before pausing. Cannon’s lungs expanded under my head, and a strained breath pushed past his lips. Neither of us said a word, and my fingers dipped lower until I found his cock, which was already at half-mast.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Only if you want me too.”
“I’d have to be fucking insane not to want you. You’re perfect, princess.”
“Good, then we’re in agreement.” I crawled on top of him, straddling him, and watched his lips form into a smile.
“And you’re feeling better?” he asked with a grunt when my soft center made contact with his cock, which was now firm.
“One hundred percent.”
I rocked my hips over the firm ridge in his shorts, swallowing a groan. This earned another mouthwatering grunt from him, and his hands found my waist.
“Christ, Paige.”
His hands moved under my T-shirt, palming the weight of my breasts. His face was a mask of concentration in the darkness, and I felt bold and wicked and oh-so-tempting. I pulled my T-shirt off over my head, tossing it beside the bed, and watched as his gaze dropped to my breasts as if they’d been pulled by a magnet.
He fondled and caressed and squeezed while I writhed on top of him. I didn’t even need foreplay tonight. I’d come in here ready, but of course Cannon didn’t know that. And even if he suspected it, he wasn’t going to skimp on treating me right.
I worked my hips over his erection, the warm friction dizzying at how good it felt.
Cannon rose up on his elbows to take one of my breasts in his mouth, pulling a cry from my lips.
“What about protection? I’m not putting on another condom,” he murmured against my throat between kisses.
The thought of having him bare, all eight of those thick, delicious inches throbbing inside me with no barrier between us, had me clenching.
“I’m safe. On the pill,” I managed between ragged breaths.
“I think you just became my dream woman. I’ve never done that before.”
Seriously? He’d never done it without a condom? I guessed it made sense. The ultra-responsible Cannon had always made safe choices. I was happy to be his first in that regard.
Unable to wait even a second longer, I rose up on my knees, just enough to tug my flimsy lace panties to the side. Cannon followed suit, pushing the pair of athletic shorts he wore down low on his hips. His big, gorgeous cock sprang free. I knew calling a cock gorgeous was weird, but his really was. Veined and heavy, and shiny at the tip.