My hands threaded through his hair, gripping it tightly as I tilted my hips into his mouth, chasing that glorious release.
“Cal.” My head thrashed. My chest heaved. Then everything tightened as the orgasm broke, wracking my body while my heart soared to the stars.
Our moans filled the bedroom. I’d hear them echo for months, just like I had in Denver. But as my orgasm rolled hard and long, I didn’t care. For this, I’d cope with the memories.
He lapped at my wetness until the aftershocks subsided.
My legs and arms fell limp at my sides, my head spinning. No man on earth had such a wickedly talented tongue.
Cal kissed the inside of my thigh, then stood.
The sound of his zipper unlatching filled the room. Then came the ripping of a condom’s wrapper, followed by the drop of his jeans as they joined the clutter on the floor. The mattress dipped with Cal’s weight before he settled into the cradle of my hips.
His hands came to my face, pushing away the hair that had fallen out of the bobby pins I’d used earlier. “Open your eyes.”
“Say—”
“Please.”
I obeyed.
His face hovered inches from mine, and there was an intensity to his expression. A furrow between his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re beautiful.”
I stilled.
Cal had called me beautiful before. Usually with an undercurrent of irritation, like it pained him to admit I was pretty. Other times he’d said it as we’d been clawing at each other’s naked bodies. Those compliments had been driven by unfiltered lust. But this was different. This was . . .
Intimate.
That word rang so loudly through my mind that I sucked in a short breath.
Cal caught my gasp with a kiss. My taste lingered on his lips. His tongue tangled with mine and any fear vanished, replaced with an all-consuming need to have him inside me. I wrapped a leg around his, molding us together. His arms bracketed beside my head, his fingers diving into my hair and pulling it loose.
“More,” I whimpered.
But he didn’t thrust inside. He tortured me with another kiss and his incredible weight pressing me deeper into the bed.
His kiss was languid and slow. His lips were soft and supple. He teased and toyed like he wanted me to remember this one. Like this was our first kiss.
Maybe it was.
Tonight was different, this path we were walking unfamiliar, but I stayed with him, lost in his arms.
We kissed like lovers. And instead of pushing for more, instead of urging him on, I let him sweep me away. I blocked out the past, the fights and angry words, and kissed the man who’d laughed with me at dinner. Who’d given me the best date I’d had in well . . . a long, long time.
His cock was hard against my core. He rubbed against me and the throb in my lower belly became impossible to ignore. But I held on to him, wanting the kiss to last just another moment. Another second. Just in case it didn’t happen again.
A first kiss.
And a last.
He groaned against my mouth, finally unthreading his fingers from my hair to reach between us. Then he fitted himself at my entrance, finding no resistance, as my body stretched around his length.
“Open your eyes,” he said, his cock pushing deep inside my body, and when I obeyed, his gaze was waiting.
Desire and emotion swirled in his hazel irises.
My heart lurched. Look away, Nellie. Block it out.
This was Cal. Trusting him was as foolish as it was dangerous.
“Keep your eyes open as I fuck you.” He spoke like he could read my mind.
Did I object? No. I wanted to watch. I wanted to see him come undone.
Stroke after stroke, he pushed us higher and higher, until the edge was as close for me as it showed on his face. He barely blinked. Neither did I. We stayed locked together until we came together, our bodies shuddering in a simultaneous rhythm.
Cal collapsed on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat as we regained our breaths. His heart thundered against my own, and before I was ready, he slid free, shoved off the bed and disappeared to the bathroom.
With the condom dealt with, I expected him to get dressed and make a hasty exit.
Instead he returned to my side, yanking back the covers of the bed and forcing me to move. Then he flopped onto the sheets, burying his face in a pillow as he lay on his stomach and sighed. An arm snagged out, wrapping around my waist to haul me closer.
“Are you . . . cuddling?” I liked cuddling. But with Cal? We’d never cuddled.
“Sleeping.” He closed his eyes, pulling me closer. “I’m tired. I’ll leave in a bit.”
There was a hell no on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t work it free. Because I really, really liked cuddling. And it had also been a long, long time. What was the harm in a quick nap? I closed my eyes and relaxed too, snuggling into my pillow as Cal dragged the quilt over our naked bodies.
Fifteen minutes. We’d sleep for fifteen, maybe thirty minutes, then I’d take a shower and he could go to his camper.
Fifteen minutes.
Then I’d put my guard back up.
And kick Cal out of my house.
Night had fallen when I jerked awake. The heat from Cal’s body had turned my bed into a sauna.
I pushed up on an elbow, the covers falling to reveal my breasts.
Cal was sound asleep beside me.
Lifting a hand, I reached to touch his shoulder and shake him awake, but stopped short. He looked at peace, his face relaxed and his hair mussed. He looked like a man who’d needed to sleep for a decade but had been waiting to find the right place to rest and had finally found it in my bed.
He looked like he belonged here.
That notion had me slipping free of his arm draped across my hips. My bare feet hit the floor, and I tiptoed to the closet, not daring to turn on a light as I felt around for a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Then I clutched them to my naked chest, easing the bedroom door closed and willing it, for once, not to squeak.
It squeaked. Damn.
I held my breath, listening for Cal to stir. But the room stayed silent and there was no rustling on the bed. I hurried to my office, still not bothering with a light as I pulled on my clothes, then snuck downstairs, filling my lungs once I stood in the safety of my kitchen.
Oh, God, what was I doing? In all the years of this strange back-and-forth with Cal, there hadn’t been a single hookup where he’d spent the night. Any time I’d gone to him, I’d made sure to leave the minute my orgasm haze had cleared.
I paced the length of the kitchen, shoving hair out of my face and pulling out the few pins that hadn’t worked themselves free. They clattered as I dropped them on the island.
The clock on the microwave glowed green at three fifty in the morning. Beyond the windows, the porch lights from the neighborhood homes brightened stoops, but otherwise, the street was dark.
Sleep would be impossible with Cal upstairs, so I went to the kettle on the stove, filling it with water and setting it to boil. I took the teapot off before the spout could whistle and filled a mug with my favorite green tea. Then I carried it to the living room couch where I curled into a corner and flipped on the TV.
With the volume at the setting just above mute, I didn’t hear much of the movie playing, but the lights kept me company. The dull murmur helped keep the worries in my head from screaming too loud.
This meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. Cal was just tired. The bed in the Winnebago wasn’t large enough for a man his size. He’d been in Bozeman and maybe he hadn’t slept well wherever he’d been staying.