6
Stay with Me Play with Me
Baya
It’s quiet in the Edwards’ home after midnight. Annie and her friend are clear down the hall, and I have no clue where his mother’s room is in conjunction to Bryson’s, but that’s not going to stop me, or my quivering parts, from bunking up with him.
I brush my teeth and change into something a lot more comfortable—a hell of a lot easier to take off on command like my tank top and Whitney Briggs boy-shorts that barely hug my hips. But for the sake of trekking down the hall, I don a cardigan that acts as a robe.
I give a gentle knock over his door and it cracks open, exposing his gorgeous denim-blue eyes smiling back at me. If he thinks I’m letting a perfectly good Bryson Edwards go to waste tonight, he’s got another thing coming—hopefully him—and, greedily, me.
“Who is it?” He gravels it out low and deep.
“Girl Scout. I come bearing cookies.”
“Well, then.” The door glides open. “Who the hell am I to turn down a Girl Scout?” Bryson pulls me in with a devilish gleam in his eye. He locks the door behind us and flicks off the lights. The moon filters into the room and washes the floor—hisbedin a steady cascade of winter white, pale as a blanket of snow. “Come here,” he whispers as his lips press over mine. He walks me backward over to the mattress until we fall onto it with him lying beside me. I swim up to his pillow and nestle my head into it. The entire room smells clean like fabric softener and bleach as if the sheets were just changed.
“Comfy,” I muse.
“So where are the cookies?”
“Would you believe that I’m hiding them somewhere on my person, and it’s up to you to find them?” I lift my knee over his back and rub down to his thigh, hard and steady.
“It’s on.” He growls it out sexy as hell. “I’m planning an extensive search, but I doubt I’ll find them.”
“That’s because you already ate them—greedy bastard.”
Bryson lights up the room with a dark laugh and pulls me in tight with his hand heavy on my bottom. “I am a greedy bastard. I want all of you.”
I take him in like this, sheer perfection.
He’s right here, and I want nothing more than to close the gap between us until he falls into me. I’m boiling over, ready to have him, ready for him to have me any way he wishes.
I stretch my arms up over my head and wriggle my body into his mattress.
His chest ticks with a silent laugh. “Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.” A seam of moonlight catches his features, exposing the fact he clearly approves.
“I’m settling in.” I twist my hips into the bed. “I think I could get a good night’s sleep here.”
“Oh sweetie”—he growls it out as the smile slides off his face —“if you spent the night in my room, there wouldn’t be a whole hell of a lot of sleeping going on.” His fiery breath sears over my mouth like a promise. “And, if you did happen to fall asleep, I’d be guilty of doing something very, very wrong.”
My fingers run down his granite-like abs and unbutton his jeans. I glide down the bed and plant a kiss just above his boxers.
“I don’t plan on sleeping,” I say, it low like a threat. “And neither should you.”
His cheek flexes on one side and a dimple depresses.
Holy crap. Bryson is going to have me writhing on his bed before he ever touches me. That sweet spot between my legs spasms in agreement.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I whisper, lifting my hand to conform to his features.
“Hey, that’s my line.” He picks my hand up and presses a wet kiss over my finger.
“Is it just a line?” I take him in like this, under the supervision of a powder soft moon.
“It’s never just a line,” he moans as his milk-white teeth skim over his lip. “Everything I say to you is the God’s honest truth.” His chin dips just a notch. “You, Baya, are fit to be hewn from marble. Every artist, every poet should be so lucky to venerate your beauty. You’re a work of art, straight from the master. Every woman on the planet should lament the fact she’s not you.” He swallows loud with a click, and his hand shakes as it settles over my cheek. “I want you, Baya.” His voice trembles.
“I want you, too.” I take in a breath and wait for something unexpected to happen.
