for her to get into bed, say good night, and flick off the lights as I walk out the door.
When I get to Zeke’s room, I stop. The light from the hallway shines a beam across his face and naked shoulder. At rest, he looks younger. I don’t think he’s much older than I am, maybe, twenty-six or so. Not feeling my feet move, I float over to the bed. My hand reaches for the sheet and I draw it back. I slip into the bed and lay on my side beside his body, listening to the sound of his soft breaths. For a long silent moment, I remain motionless as the heat generates between us. My fingers lightly touch his hair, the curve of his shoulder, and the outline of his bicep. Barely making contact, I slide them along his forearm. He grabs my hand. I freeze as he holds me tight for a second. Then he lets go and I curl my hand against my chest as he rolls over and faces me.
“Picasso,” he huskily whispers, “what are you doing?”
“I’m going to sleep,” I say, looking into his glossy heavy-lidded eyes.
“This,” his weighted gaze rolls down my warm body, “is not a good idea.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile, feathering the back of my hand against his cheek. “I’m not going to try to take advantage of you, not with Addy right in the next room.”
He laughs, and my fingers find his soft lips. I touch his gorgeous smile. “You are beautiful,” I say, looking up at him.
“Ah,” he half-smirks with closed eyes, “your brain's medial orbital frontal cortex likes what it sees?”
“Yes. And the rest of my brain is telling me that what I’m seeing is actually worthy of its beauty. When I’m around you, I feel so alive,” I say, free from his watchful eyes. I brush my knuckles along the soft whiskers on his chin. “I feel content,” I palm his face, “and I feel safe.”
His eyes snap open. “You shouldn’t feel safe.”
“Why?”
“Because what you think you see when you look at me, that so-called beautiful, destroys anything it touches.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I told you before,” he grabs my hand and pulls it away from his face, “don’t go fallin’ for me, Lurlene. I’m not that guy, and I never will be.”
“I don’t want you to be that guy.”
“No?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No.” I rest my head on the pillow. “I want you to be you, Zeke Declan. I’ve gotten to know him a little over the past few weeks, and I like him. He’s funny, he’s strong, he’s dedicated, and he’s also scared.”
“Scared?”
“Yes. You’re afraid of me,” I say, and the epiphany strikes me hard. He’s afraid to get too close to me; that could be the only reason why he’s been holding back. The attraction’s there, sparks fly when we touch, kiss ... hell, just being in the same room is like the Fourth of July. He has to feel it too. I know he does.
He leans toward me, wraps his hand around my neck, and pulls me close to his face. “I’m not afraid of you.”
I glance at his tempting mouth and pull my brave out. “Then why haven’t you fucked me yet?”
He gazes down into my eyes and my insides light up. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” I say, bravery weaning, “but it still makes me wonder why you haven’t tried.”
He kisses me, not long and slow, just a soft, short press of the lips, and then he laughs. “What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzles my nose.
“Hmm ... I’m lying in bed, inches away from you, and you don’t know what to do with me?”
“Like you said, Addy is in the next room, and believe me, this is the safest you’ll ever be this close to me.” He lowers my head back to the pillow. “Now, roll over and go to sleep.”
“If I do,” I grin up at him, “will you hold me?”
“If that is what you want, yes. But I gotta warn ya, when I press against you, you’re going to feel how my body reacts to your ‘beautiful,’ and you’ll find no need to question whether or not I want to fuck you.”
“So you want to fuck me?” I
When I get to Zeke’s room, I stop. The light from the hallway shines a beam across his face and naked shoulder. At rest, he looks younger. I don’t think he’s much older than I am, maybe, twenty-six or so. Not feeling my feet move, I float over to the bed. My hand reaches for the sheet and I draw it back. I slip into the bed and lay on my side beside his body, listening to the sound of his soft breaths. For a long silent moment, I remain motionless as the heat generates between us. My fingers lightly touch his hair, the curve of his shoulder, and the outline of his bicep. Barely making contact, I slide them along his forearm. He grabs my hand. I freeze as he holds me tight for a second. Then he lets go and I curl my hand against my chest as he rolls over and faces me.
“Picasso,” he huskily whispers, “what are you doing?”
“I’m going to sleep,” I say, looking into his glossy heavy-lidded eyes.
“This,” his weighted gaze rolls down my warm body, “is not a good idea.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile, feathering the back of my hand against his cheek. “I’m not going to try to take advantage of you, not with Addy right in the next room.”
He laughs, and my fingers find his soft lips. I touch his gorgeous smile. “You are beautiful,” I say, looking up at him.
“Ah,” he half-smirks with closed eyes, “your brain's medial orbital frontal cortex likes what it sees?”
“Yes. And the rest of my brain is telling me that what I’m seeing is actually worthy of its beauty. When I’m around you, I feel so alive,” I say, free from his watchful eyes. I brush my knuckles along the soft whiskers on his chin. “I feel content,” I palm his face, “and I feel safe.”
His eyes snap open. “You shouldn’t feel safe.”
“Why?”
“Because what you think you see when you look at me, that so-called beautiful, destroys anything it touches.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I told you before,” he grabs my hand and pulls it away from his face, “don’t go fallin’ for me, Lurlene. I’m not that guy, and I never will be.”
“I don’t want you to be that guy.”
“No?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No.” I rest my head on the pillow. “I want you to be you, Zeke Declan. I’ve gotten to know him a little over the past few weeks, and I like him. He’s funny, he’s strong, he’s dedicated, and he’s also scared.”
“Scared?”
“Yes. You’re afraid of me,” I say, and the epiphany strikes me hard. He’s afraid to get too close to me; that could be the only reason why he’s been holding back. The attraction’s there, sparks fly when we touch, kiss ... hell, just being in the same room is like the Fourth of July. He has to feel it too. I know he does.
He leans toward me, wraps his hand around my neck, and pulls me close to his face. “I’m not afraid of you.”
I glance at his tempting mouth and pull my brave out. “Then why haven’t you fucked me yet?”
He gazes down into my eyes and my insides light up. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” I say, bravery weaning, “but it still makes me wonder why you haven’t tried.”
He kisses me, not long and slow, just a soft, short press of the lips, and then he laughs. “What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzles my nose.
“Hmm ... I’m lying in bed, inches away from you, and you don’t know what to do with me?”
“Like you said, Addy is in the next room, and believe me, this is the safest you’ll ever be this close to me.” He lowers my head back to the pillow. “Now, roll over and go to sleep.”
“If I do,” I grin up at him, “will you hold me?”
“If that is what you want, yes. But I gotta warn ya, when I press against you, you’re going to feel how my body reacts to your ‘beautiful,’ and you’ll find no need to question whether or not I want to fuck you.”
“So you want to fuck me?” I
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