A slow smile worked its way up Fisher’s face as his hands slid along the back of my legs, coming to a rest just below my butt. “Yeah?”
Why was I embarrassed? Why did my heart go wild in my chest making my tummy feel nervous? I wasn’t retelling our past to him. I wasn’t telling him how he felt about me. I wasn’t telling him anything he had to reach for to truly understand. They were my feelings.
They shaped me as a woman in ways he’d never know even if he did remember everything. And I wanted him to see me. All of me.
“Yeah.” I bit my lower lip for a second. “I had no idea sexy wore jeans, a faded tee, and work boots. I had no idea sexy drove a truck and mowed the lawn without a shirt. Well …” I giggled. “I should’ve known sexy mowed the lawn without a shirt. On mornings we rode to work together, I was so giddy. I practically sprinted to your truck, slowing at the last minute to act cool and controlled. Then I prayed you had music playing so you didn’t hear my heart so out of control. And I’d stare at your hands on the steering wheel, those veins up your arms, your full lips as you’d lick them after taking a sip of your coffee.” I slowly shook my head. “I was in deep, feeling things I’d never experienced before. And it felt so wrong, but I couldn’t stop. And you didn’t help … you and your effortless sex appeal just … every single day.”
He stood slowly, kissing my chest and neck on his way to my lips. And before he kissed me on the mouth, he paused, letting his gaze ghost along my face. “I didn’t think I could love you more.” He swept my hair away from my face before weaving his fingers through it. “I was so fucking wrong.”
We kissed.
Clothes vanished along with the rest of the world. And I knew we were an unstoppable storm. But … how much damage would we do in our pursuit to be together?
I died a little when he sank into me. It felt different. We felt different.
Fisher’s heavy breaths washed over my cheek as his lips found my ear. “You are my favorite place in the world.”
I gripped his backside as my legs wrapped around him.
That spoke to my soul, that place that defined us because we were everywhere our souls took us. And maybe that was Heaven. And maybe that was Hell. But in that moment, it was in a bed of messy sheets and tangled limbs.
It was a pretty fucking amazing place.
A little before four in the morning, I wormed my way out of his enveloped arms. I kinda loved that he held me so close, like he didn’t want to ever let me go. After peeing, I stole a hoodie from his closet and pulled it over my head. Closing his bedroom door behind me, I tiptoed to the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Score.” I grinned at the plate of holiday leftovers he must have brought home from his parents’ house. Pulling off the plastic wrap, I swiped my finger through the cold mashed potatoes. “Oh my gosh, those are good.” I skipped the fork and made a second swipe through the mashed potatoes with my finger. They had a buttermilk taste to them.
“Are you really eating my lunch?”
I jumped and turned toward Fisher, licking the potatoes from the corner of my mouth.
He sauntered toward me in nothing but his charcoal gray briefs that hugged him in all the right places. “Stop eyeing my cock while licking your lips.”
My gaze snapped up to meet his as my tongue made a quick retreat back into my mouth. I grinned. “These are the best potatoes I’ve ever had. And if you tell Rory that, I’ll kill you.”
“Why are you eating cold potatoes?” He ducked and kissed me.
My hand pressed to his warm chest. “Because I love almost everything cold. After my dad died, I lived on leftovers. My grandma made huge batches of everything, and we’d essentially eat leftovers for a week. And I was either hanging out with friends or working, so I often grabbed cold leftovers and ate them on the go.” My fingers made a return trip to the potatoes, and I held it up to him.