“Holy shit,” I exhale. I watch her for a minute longer, until she starts to relax against her hand, and then I move my eyes back to her face. I pull away and stare down at her, watching as her head falls back against the door. Her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted and all I can feel in my heart is kiss her, kiss her.
My lips come down gently against hers and she moans softly into my mouth. I tease her lips with the tip of my tongue, sliding it across her top lip and then her bottom. Her moans are becoming more frequent, and the more I press her against the door, the better I can feel her hand moving between us.
I can’t believe this is real life. I can’t believe she lives five feet away from me and she’s willing to give me this part of her. I’m the luckiest man in the world.
She starts to whimper again, but this time my mouth is resting against hers and I take in every single one of the sounds she makes. She tilts her face more and more to mine, wanting me to kiss her hard, but I’m enjoying this too much. I love the way she looks right now, eyes closed, mouth open, heart exposed. I don’t want to kiss her. I want to keep my eyes open and watch every second of this.
I stop moving inside of her and wait for her to finish, because if I keep moving, I won’t last another second. She begins to open her eyes, wondering why I stopped, so I lean in to her ear. “You’re almost there,” I whisper. “I just want to watch you.”
She relaxes again and I continue to watch her, soaking up every whimper and every moan and every movement she makes like I’m a sponge and she’s my water.
As soon as her legs begin to tighten around my waist, I grip her hips with both hands and resume moving inside of her. Her whimpers turn into moans, and her moans turn into my name and it takes us all of ten seconds before we’re both shaking and gasping for breath and kissing and groping and then finally, sighing.
Her body weakens in my arms and she lays her head against my chest. I bring my hand up to her neck and kiss her softly on top of the head.
After a solid minute of working to catch our breath and regain the ability to move, I slowly begin to pull out of her. She lowers her feet to the floor and looks up at me. She’s not smiling, but I can see the calmness behind her eyes. This was exactly what she needed. Exactly what I needed.
“Thank you,” she says, matter-of-factly.
I grin. “You’re welcome.”
She ducks her head as soon as she begins to smile, and slips under my arm. She enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her. I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, completely unable to will my legs to make it back to the bed. If I didn’t have to wait on her to finish in the bathroom, I’d fall asleep right here on the floor.
Chapter Seven
Three solid weeks.
Twenty-one nights.
Over thirty times we’ve had sex.
Absolutely zero interaction during the day.
I don’t really understand her. I don’t know her well enough to know what sets her off or, in turn, what makes her so quiet. I don’t know why she refuses to treat what’s going on between us like it’s anything remotely significant, but I’m not complaining. I mean, come on. We have sex every night and I don’t have to dote on her during the day. I would have the perfect setup if I didn’t want just a little bit more from her. But until I can get to another level with Bridgette, I know nothing better come in between us. Especially a new roommate, which is what I’m afraid might happen. Brennan has officially gone on tour and moved out, which means his room is now up for grabs. I can’t take the idea of Bridgette’s sister moving in, which is something I’ve heard them discussing on the phone. I don’t know what or whom Ridge has in mind, but I for sure don’t think I can take the possibility of another guy moving in. As much as I want to pretend I’m as casual with this arrangement as Bridgette is, if another guy even looks at her ass in those shorts, I won’t be able to refrain from beating his ass. And I’m not even the type of guy who fights other guys, but Bridgette makes me want to fight everyone. Even the nerdy guys. I’ll hit all the humans if it means keeping up the arrangement I’ve got going with her.
Which is why I can’t stop staring at the couch right now. There’s a person on it. I think it’s a girl, because I see blond hair peeking out from under the pillow pulled over her face, but it could be a long-haired guy. A guy I don’t want to be our next roommate. I continue to watch the couch, waiting for the person to wake up. I’m loud enough in the kitchen to wake up the whole apartment, but whoever is on this couch is sleeping like a rock.