An exhausted chuckle filled the room and he lifted himself up onto his elbow to look at her. “I believe I just did.”
She coughed out a laugh, too tired to do anything more than that. “What happened to making sweet, sweet love to me?”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding completely sated. “I thought that shit could wait for tomorrow.”
“Ooh, Tyler Evans, you rebel. A brown word.”
“Well, when in Rome…” He smiled and leaned closer. “And I seem to find myself in the constant company of a Roman.”
He brushed his lips against hers and she went all gooey inside. What was that she told herself? That firm vow that she would absolutely, positively, under no circumstances, fall for Tyler Evans. That was just a couple months ago and now look? Ugh! Barf! What a sorry excuse of soppiness she turned out to be.
*****
Tyler woke up much later that afternoon and was a little disappointed to see the empty spot beside him. His head throbbed slightly as he sat up. He pulled on his boxers and walked to the bathroom where a new toothbrush was waitingfor him on the sink. After brushing his teeth, he slowly made his way down the corridor to the kitchen. She had her back to him but he still smiled when he saw her– super short shorts and a loose-fitting tank top that stopped midway between her breasts and hips. She must have already had a shower because her brown hair was damp and untidily swept up in a ponytail. Her movements were awkward, like her whole body was stiff. It could have been the excessive dancing, but he was pretty sure it was his fault.
He’d been excessive too, unable to get enough of that body. Hips, thighs and breasts. Lips, eyes and V-town. She’d offered him every soft, sexy curve last night and he stopped caring she was drunk.
Goodbye, moral compass.
He’d taken her with ferocity, with a need he’d never felt before. It was an insatiable need, a constant, unending burn to have her. She drove him wild. She’d found the most primal part of him and all it took was one look in her blue-gray eyes to draw it out of him. He was a man who was usually calm and collected. It was in his nature and yet every time he was around her, he felt a little out of control. Last night…he lost complete control and surrendered to raw, uncontrolled lust. And considering the events of the night before, he should have woken up feeling the tiniest bit satisfied. He wasn’t.
“Good morning.”
His greeting startled her and she spun around to face him. “Good afternoon,” she responded, her voice sounding a little hoarse. There had been a lot of screaming too.
She smiled as she turned off the faucet and it told him that memories of last night were flashing through her mind as well. She remained casual and carried a bowl of fruit to the small wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Picking up a knife, shebegan slicing an apple. “After all the alcohol we drank last night, I think we should have something healthy for breakfast.”
“What? No ice-cream? Who are you and what have you done with Jordan?”
A little titter filled the space between them. “How are you feeling?” she asked, reaching for another apple. “I’m totally fucked!”
He smiled, shaking his head.The profanities.“I see that, Roman.” Moving around the table, he wrapped his arms around her waist. “You seem to be a bit unsteady on your feet.”
“That’s your fault.”
“I know.”
“I think I’m gonna call in sick tomorrow.”
He moved her hair back and lightly kissed her neck. “And what do you think your boss will say about you taking a hangover day?”
She leaned back against him, tilting her head to the side so his mouth had better access. “It wouldn’t be a hangover day. It will be a recovering-from-Tyler day. It got a little rough last night.”
“That’s your fault,” he whispered, nipping her earlobe. His hand pressed harder against her stomach, his fingers slowly inching lower. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could skip breakfast.”
He didn’t know why he asked that question. It didn’t matter what her answer was. His hand slipped into her shorts, lightly caressing her skin and he felt her moistness on his tips.
A soft gasp left her lips and the apple dropped from her hand. The knife fell next, sliding to the edge of the table. Slow…easy…his fingers moved inside her. Her head dropped back against his chest and he gently nipped the skin on the side of her neck. Light breaths became heavier, but it wasn’t a moan just yet. He was just beginning to enjoy it when she pulled his hand away andturned around. That annoyed him a little, but she pressed her mouth against his and he kinda forgave her. She sat down on the table and wrapped her long legs around him. Her hand ran down his chest, but he grabbed it before it reached his boxers.
He wanted to learn this body, see what made her moan. She’d denied him this last night and now he had every intention of rectifying that.
Easing her back onto the table, he pulled her shorts down her legs and his hand traced leisurely up her inner thigh. Her head rolled back as his fingers pushed inside her again. She shifted her hips, urging him to pick up the pace, but he refused.
His other hand crept beneath her tank top, the curve of her breast filling his palm. He kissed her down the side of her neck as he slowly dragged the thin material up her chest. Taking one swollen nipple into his mouth, he teased it between his teeth and tongue. Her hand was sliding down his chest and again he caught it before it reached its destination. Her touch pushed him from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds and he was doing his best to avoid it.
“Tyler.” It was breathless scolding.
She was becoming edgy. That was Jordan. Always in the fast lane, chasing a deadline, racing to the finish line. He’d given into that yesterday, but today was Sunday, the day of rest. There was no need to rush. He wanted to take his time exploring every inch of her. His mouth moved to her other breast, his hands continuing their slow torture, and she was losing control.
