I should've been thinking about the roads, about getting home, about Dash. Instead, I couldn't look away from Flannery sleeping.
Her hair had come completely loose during the night, spread across my chest in waves that caught the dim light. Without her glasses, her face looked younger, softer. Vulnerable. One hand rested on my chest, right over my heart, and I could feel the warmth of her palm through my skin.
Last night had been... Christ. I didn't even have words for it.
I'd told myself I was just helping her through an awkward situation. Being neighborly. But somewhere between the inventory and the massage oil and her looking up at me with those eyes while she took me in her mouth—
No. This wasn't just physical. Couldn't be, not with how badly I wanted to wake up like this every morning.
She stirred, her hand flexing against my chest, and then those eyes opened. For a second, she looked confused, disoriented. Then she focused on me, and a shy smile curved her lips.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi yourself."
"Did you sleep?"
"Some." I brushed a strand of hair from her face, the strands catching on my rough fingers. "You?"
"A little." She stretched, the blanket slipping down, and I caught a glimpse of bare skin—the curve of her breast, the line of her hip, her skin glowing in the light. She didn't pull the blanket back up this time, just looked at me with wonder and desire. "I can't believe last night was real."
"It was real." I ran my hand down her side, following the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip. "You're real. And you're here."
"I feel different."
"Different how?"
She bit her lip, thinking. "Like I woke up in my own skin for the first time. Does that sound crazy?"
"No. That sounds exactly right." I drew her closer, breathing her in.
She kissed me then, soft and slow, and I tasted sleep and sweetness and her. My body responded immediately, hardening against her thigh, and she pulled back with a small smile.
"Again?" she asked, but her hand was already moving lower.
"Can't help it. You do things to me, Flannery Green."
"Good things?"
"Very good things." I rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs. The blanket slipped to the floor, and I could see her clearly now—every curve, every mark I'd left, every inch of paleskin. "And I want to take my time with you this morning. Make you feel good."
"You already did. Multiple times."
"I know." I took her nipple in my mouth, sucking gently, and she arched into me with a gasp. "But I'm greedy. Want to make you come again. Want to see your face when you do."
She laughed, breathless, and threaded her fingers through my hair. "You're insatiable."
"Only for you."
The words came out before I could stop them, too honest. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she drew me up for another kiss, deeper this time, her tongue sliding against mine.
I took my time mapping her body in daylight. Kissing down her neck, across her collarbones, between her breasts. The scatter of freckles across her shoulders. The way her skin pebbled when I breathed across it. The flush that spread down her chest when I sucked her nipple.
"You're gorgeous," I murmured against her skin. "Especially like this. Flushed with need."
"Shep—" Her hips lifted, seeking friction.
"What do you need?"
