I look up at Everett. “I’m getting there.”
Omar clicks the key fob, opening the trunk where our bags are held, then quietly walks back into the house. Everett grabs our bags, despite me insisting I can carry my own.
“Baby, I know you can carry your own bag, but let me take care of you, please.”
I blush a little and let him take the bags to the back of the house where the enormous master suite is waiting. There’s a private entrance to a gorgeous garden area with Adirondack chairs and outdoor furniture for dining alfresco.
When we walk into the suite itself… Damn, this was bought and paid for with a lot of gun money. The bed is an enormous king, and it’s clear that at least one of its inhabitants was a shorty because there’s a cute set of steps that lead up to the high bed. That’s when we notice Windsor, propped up against the white pillows, somehow managing to be both camouflagedandimperious.
I climb up on my side of the bed and Everett climbs up on his and we meet in the middle, kissing over Windsor’s head. Minutes later, we’re all passed out.
What a fucking day.
23
Everett
God, I could become addicted to Rafi in the morning. There’s a full-length mirror next to the bed, and the slow-blinking eyes, the sleep-mussed hair… It’s a heart-stopping combination of adorable and sensual.
He’d gotten chilly in the middle of the night, and I felt like a goddamn hero wrapping my body around his, hearing his satisfied little sounds as he wiggled into my warmth and squirmed against my still-half-hard cock until it was nestled between the curves of his ass…sigh.
He stirs sleepily beside me and I tighten my grip on him. “You awake?”
He turns in my arms, burying his face into my chest. “Mmmhmm. Did I wake you?”
I smile, kissing the top of his head. “No, you weren’t doing anything. I just feel super…aware of you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
My hands feel rough on his delicate hips as I align our cocks, rubbing up against him like a horndog. “It’s a very good thing.”
“Mmmm, I wish I didn’t have to pee so bad. Morning logistics are the worst.” He lets out a muffled grumble, and I kiss the top of his head.
“I hear you, baby boy. Want to take a shower together?” I ask, tilting his chin up to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He smiles and nods his head, kissing me back.
I sit up and scooch us to the edge of the bed, where he straddles me and wraps his legs around me, placing his head on my shoulder. Even though I’ve always known I would protect him with my life, this morning I feel it deep within my soul.
I find my balance and stand up with him still wrapped around me, carrying him into the en suite, complete with its own little toilet room. He shifts and slides down my body, more of that sweet torture, and we take turns brushing our teeth and doing our business.
While he’s finishing up, I shuffle off my clothes and switch on the shower, only waiting until it’s just above shrink-my-nads freezing to hop in and get that first chilly blast of the day.
“What are you doing?” Rafi asks, shivering from outside of the shower.
“I like getting in while the water is still chilly, kind of like a polar bear plunge, but with my morning shower.”
His mouth opens in horror. “That’s insane.”
“No, it’s not,” I say, grabbing him with a laugh. He squeals in protest as I pull him under the water with me, then stands under the already warm spray, looking up at me with adorable faux-hate in his eyes.
Those wide eyes in combination with his poreless skin and water-slicked hair subtract ten years from his appearance; his fragile-fierce beauty is an act of violence against my sanity.
“If that had actually been cold, I would have murdered you where you stand.”
I blink back into the moment and tweak one of his nipples, then soothe it with my tongue. “Oh really? And how would you plan on killing me? With mind bullets?”
“No, with sheer determination.”
It’s the familiar back-and-forth we’ve developed over the last several months, but now with nudity and showering andtouching.
