I gripped his clenched biceps as he propped himself up over me, thrusting with a slow roll of his hips. His heart tattoo on his left bicep peeked out between my splayed fingers.
Rolling us over so that I was riding him, he gripped my hips, his thrusts harder, rawer. He fumbled in the drawer by the bed for the lube. A squirt later, he slid his finger into my ass.
He rewarded my wanton moan with another finger. I’d never felt so full, so complete.
“You good?” he asked.
“Y-yeah.” I raked my nails down his chest, shivering every time I bottomed out. Having him inside me like this, took our lovemaking to a whole new realm. We were physically and emotionally as intertwined as two people could be. I couldn’t have handled this before now, and especially not with anyone else. But with Ro?
I clasped his face in my hands and kissed him.
“You’re my supernova.” Rohan curled up, dragging his lips over my belly, his scruff scratchy, and swirled his tongue into my navel.
I giggled and pushed him back, leaning over to capture his lips again, my hair drifting down along the hard planes of his abs. “What about you? You want anything else?” My voice was breathy. I was drowning in the twin tempos of his fingers and cock.
Rohan traced my swollen lips with his tongue. “Just you.”
My orgasm raged through me, my back arching. A supernova swallowed me up and for a moment all I could do was let myself be consumed.
Rohan’s expression was fierce. He drove into me, his entire body bucking, adding to my blissful aftershocks. With a hoarse cry, he came.
I flopped onto the mattress and he rested his head on my chest. I stroked his hair. “That was… almost too much and not nearly enough.”
“I know.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my hip. “I’ll get a towel,” he said, and slipped from the bed. The water in his bathroom ran for a moment and then Rohan cleaned us both up with a cool, damp cloth. He’d even brought a dry facecloth to cover the wet spot.
The covers rustled as he got back under, gathering me close against him. When he high-fived me with a dead-ass solemn expression, I laughed until my stomach was sore.
I fell asleep in a spill of moonlight and a warm arm around my shoulders. And despite my best efforts, the last thing flickering through my mind was Rohan’s raspy voice playing over and over again:
Just you.
7
The morning light was a soft filter, my body boneless and half-dozy. Our limbs were entangled with my head on Rohan’s chest and his stubble itchy against my forehead as we listened to rain pattering against the windows.
I traced lazy circles on his abs and he hummed, content, in a voice thick with sleep. I craned my neck to see the tiny strip of gold beneath his half-closed lids. “Last night was amazing.”
“Yeah.” Rohan tensed for the briefest second. My expression hardened. “Cool down. It’s not morning after freak out. It’s fine.” He scratched his jaw. “I’d just better… shave.”
He was staring at my chin which, come to think of it, stung. I darted out of bed to his mirror and let out a wail. “What have you done to me?” The skin along my jaw was rubbed raw, like I’d spent the night cuddled up with a sandpaper pillow.
Rohan sat up, the sheet pooling at his hips. “This is not all on me.”
I touched my chafed red skin. Whimpered.
He grinned at me. “Want me to kiss it better?”
I opened his bathroom door. “No. I want you to never kiss me ag–”
The door slammed shut, Rohan bracing his hand against it. “Say you don’t mean that.”
“Obviously,” I grumbled.
He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll shave.” He bent down to retrieve the turquoise shirt he’d worn last night, but I snatched it away from him and put it on. If our relationship had escalated to physical wounds, then I got to wear his clothing.
I inhaled, letting his scent seep into mine. The fabric was soft and contoured nicely to my body, hitting mid-thigh. “Keeping this,” I said.
He gave a resigned nod and stepped past me into the bathroom. Only when I heard the shower go on, did I remember what day it was.
I pounded on the bathroom door to get my “Happy Birthday,” but Rohan was singing under the spray and didn’t hear me, even when I jiggled the knob two or seven times. I searched the bed, but there was no gift hidden under my pillow. Hanging off the mattress to check underneath only gave me a crick in my neck, raiding his drawers yielded nothing more interesting than the fact he folded his underwear, which was old news, and rifling through his closet was a bust unless you counted the lint-covered roll of butterscotch candy the sneak had hidden in his leather jacket. It was like expecting a trip exploring the coral reefs and instead getting the toilet he’d flushed his goldfish down when he was nine.
I still took the candy with me, unclenching my chokehold on the closet doorknob. This was the boyfriend who had taken Lily to Paris for dessert. He’d sure as shit remembered her birthday. Between the two apps and the back up paper reminder, he knew what today was. Was forgetting an honest mistake having just woken up, or a sign that I was once more with someone who was going to throw me under the bus emotionally and walk away?
As I gathered up last night’s clothes, my phone tumbled out of my pocket onto the floor. There was a notification with my new word of the day.
Insouciance. Noun. An uncaring attitude, lack of interest.
I stuffed it into the middle of my clothing bundle. Rohan had probably gotten up early, and made me a fancy breakfast where he would gift me with the most amazing present ever, after he crawled back under the covers and pretended to wake up next to me.
Could happen.
I yanked the bedroom door open, ran down the hallway to the kitchen sniffing like a coke addict, and skidded to a stop at the sight of Drio dressed in raggedly cut-off sweats and a T-shirt, his feet bare, chugging back a glass of water at the kitchen sink. The sweat from his workout had caused his blond hair to plaster to his forehead, but it also made his olive skin glisten so it wasn’t all gross. “When did you get back?”
Grimacing, he jerked a finger at my face. “What’s happened to make you look like that?”
“I look fine.”
Snorting his disagreement, he dumped the glass in the sink, his green gaze flicking over Rohan’s shirt that I wore. “He’s awake?” he asked in his sexy Italian accent, his face lighting up.
“Yeah, fanboy. He’s in the shower. Hurry and you might get to soap him up.”
Drio gave me the hand-to-arm Italian gesture of “fuck off.”
“Happy birthday, younger and uglier twin.” Ari strode into the room and jerked back at the sight of my chin. “Jesus. You’re not supposed to really be uglier.”
“All right, already.” I hugged Ari back, even though he didn’t deserve it. “Happy birthday, older and stinkier twin.”
Ari held up a badly-wrapped, lumpy gift. “Took you long enough to wake up.” I jumped for it but he held it out of range. “Where’s mine?”
I gave another pointless swipe. “Upstairs.”