I crawl over her leg and drop down to the bed at her side, stretching myself out. “Hey, hey…are you crying? Baby, come here.” Heart in my throat, I turn her face to look at me.
“I’m okay,” she whimpers. “Really, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
“You’re shivering.” I work quick, clicking the release on the handcuffs, freeing her hands.
She immediately drops them down, crying as she wraps herself up in me. Our arms and legs tangle until we’re pressed together from shoulder to toes.
“Talk to me,” I say, one hand brushing the curls back from her face. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”
She shakes her head, nuzzling her face against my chest. “I’m fine,” she says again. “That was just really intense.”
“It was too much,” I say, frustration at myself building.
“No,” she says quickly, looking up at me, her hand cupping my cheek. “No, it was perfect. Ryan, look at me.”
I look down, meeting her forest green gaze.
“It was perfect. I loved it. It was just a lot.”
“What do you need?”
“Just hold me for a minute,” she says, burying her face back against the sweat of my chest. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”
“Okay,” I say, my hand cupping the back of her head. At this angle, the floral fruitiness of her shampoo wafts into my nose. “This smell is going to haunt me,” I say, my hand smoothing down her mussed curls.
“My shampoo?”
“Mhmm.”
She nestles closer, trying to share my skin. “Why?”
“Because it’s locked in with that first memory I have of you,” I reply. “That kiss on beach day…I could smell your shampoo when we kissed. Like a tropical sunrise.”
She laughs. “A tropical sunrise?”
“Tease me, and I’ll pour your margarita in the pool,” I warn.
I feel her smile against my chest. “Are you really gonna make me a margarita?”
“Sure,” I reply, dropping my hand to rub up and down her back, relieved that the shivering has stopped. “That was the deal, right? I get tied up anal sex, you get a margarita. Even Steven.”
She laughs again, looking up at me. “Please don’t say ‘Even Steven’ while I’m wearing your cum in my ass.”
I smirk, brushing my fingers through her hair again. “Okie dokie, Smokie.”
She shakes her head. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” I reply, rolling on my back and pulling her with me, her hair spilling over my chest.
“No,” she says after a moment, her fatigue setting in as the last of her adrenaline leaves her body. “I really don’t.”
55
The sound of my alarm wakes me, and my eyes flutter open to see Ryan stretched out naked on my bed. He’s on his stomach, his head buried under the pillow. A stream of sunlight peeks through a crack in the curtains, shining across his back, giving his tanned skin a golden glow. The sheet barely covers his perky hockey butt.
I can’t help but smile. He’s finally ditched the clunky knee brace for sleeping, so now he can stretch out on the bed like the puppy he is, all arms and legs. He looks so peaceful.
It’s Saturday. Game day for Ryan. Gala prep day for me.
Last night was a dream. After our epic fuzzy handcuff sex, we showered. Then Ryan made us margaritas and I made us dinner and we sat out on the patio by the fire table. We laughed and talked for hours, eventually stumbling our way back into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Now I’m awake and he’s still here. A beautiful, thoughtful, very naked boy is in my bed. Trying not to disturb him, I inch towards the side of the bed. As soon as I flip the sheet back, his hand darts out and wraps around my wrist. He muffles something I don’t hear.
“What’s that, puppy?” I tease.
Pulling on my wrist, he rolls to his side and peeks his head out from under the pillow. He blinks in the bright light, his tousled blond hair a mess. “I said, where do you think you’re going?”
I laugh as he pulls me down, wrapping his arms and legs around me like a giant squid, burying his face at my neck and peppering me with kisses.
“I have to get up,” I say after a minute. “I have a ton of stuff to do today.”
“There’s always tomorrow,” he replies, his hands roaming as he wakes my body up. He cups my breast, teasing my nipple until I’m arching into him. I turn and he lets me, wiggling against him until we’re a pair of spoons. He flicks my hair back, exposing my shoulder, his warm lips teasing my skin as his hands roam, lovingly touching me all over, memorizing my shape.