“Jesse.”
“Fucking get there, Hallie.”
“Jesse.” It’s a more frantic sound, filled with need and tinged with panic as she tightens around me.
I tug on her hair again, and she gasps.
“Fuckingget there, Hallie,”I demand, my hand pulling back to come down hard on her ass, the slap echoing in the room.
That’s what it does.
Her entire body tightens before she comes, the sound starting with aJbefore melting into a scream, and her entire body shakes with her orgasm.
That’s what sends me over the edge, slamming in deep one last time and coming hard and long into her, my body collapsing over hers. My arms on the couch are the only thing stopping me from crushing her as I pepper kisses along her neck.
THIRTY-TWO
The sun floods my room the next morning, waking me up instead of a blaring alarm, and the first thing I register is Hallie’s naked body glued to mine, her cheek smooshed to my chest, a leg hitched up over mine as she holds me in her sleep.
I’m the luckiest asshole on earth, and the woman before me is undeniable proof of that. I lift my hand and slide my fingers through her hair, pushing it back and away from her face so I can take in her beauty. Her long eyelashes resting against her cheeks, the freckles that got a bit lighter with summer so long ago, her pink lips pouty and full. After our first round, I managed to convince her to wash the makeup off her face, knowing she’d hate waking up with it on, so the flush on her cheeks is all hers.
She’s beautiful.
The most beautiful woman on earth and all mine.
Eventually, after another ten minutes or so of lying like this and watching her sleep, she starts to stir, eyes moving beneath her eyelids, her tongue coming out to wet her lips before she blinks, then looks up at me, groggy and sleepy. “Morning,” I whisper. It’s my favorite part of every day, though there’s usually little to no light to see her with when my alarm goes off at the ass crack of dawn so that she can sneak out.
Then she grimaces.
“Why did you let me drink so much last night?” She puts a hand over her face and buries it further into my chest.
I let out a laugh and shake my head, moving and shifting her until she’s lying on top of me.
“I think you’re very aware that no one can ever tell you what to do, Hallie, much lessletyou do something.”
She groans, head falling into my neck and breathing there for a few moments.
“Well, maybe you should start.”
“Are you sick?” Worry trickles in because if she’s contemplating letting me tell her what to do outside of the bedroom, she must really not feel well, but she shakes her head.
“Just a headache.” Well, that’s fixable.
“Water, meds, breakfast. You’ll be good as new,” I say, hands going to her hips and moving us both so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed with her in my lap. On instinct, her legs wrap around my hips, and I stand, walking us to the dresser, where I set her before digging through my drawers for a sweatshirt. She has some clothes here, but I know she would rather steal another of my sweatshirts.
“Pancakes and bacon?” she mumbles as I pull one over her head.
“Only option,” I say with a smile, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips before sliding a pair of my boxer briefs up her legs and then helping her off the dresser. “Go use the bathroom, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
She nods, then shuffles off.
I get dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants quickly before moving to the kitchen. I start the coffee, then pull things out of the fridge. When she shuffles in, I move to her, grab her one last time, and set her on the counter next to where I’ll be making breakfast before handing her a glass of water and two pills.
“Coffee?” she asks, and I’m glad to see her eyes have cleared. Most of her sluggishness seems to have been grogginess, not a terrible hangover.
I press a kiss to her lips, then make her a coffee and bring it over to her.
“I love you,” she mutters, then takes a long sip of the drink.
