She’d been ready for a romp as hot and sexy as last night. Nothing could have prepared her for Gunnar taking her at her word and making slow, sweet love to her with every stroke. Jorja wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clutching him to her. Her sigh felt like it came from her toes.
“Beautiful,” Gunnar whispered against her throat. “Just beautiful.”
Yes, yes, he was. If ever there was a man made to be called beautiful, it was him. The scars and the bruises added soul to the beauty she saw when she looked at him.
“Look at me, beautiful.”
Was he somehow reading her mind? She lifted her eyelids and met his gaze, getting lost in the moment as he smiled down at her. Something so profoundly deep touched her heart, and she knew right then she would fight for him, for them. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. It was too soon—way too soon, and she refused to break the magic of this time between them by putting those words out there… yet.
I love you.
She shivered against the onslaught of emotions, reaching up off the pillows, tightening her grip on his shoulders, and hiding her face against his chest. As if sensing what she needed, he pulled away and settled in behind her, the big spoon to her little one. One hand under her head banded the other around her, keeping her close as he stroked his length between her lower lips a few times before finally pushing into her so damn slowly.
He began an unhurried but steady rhythm in and out of her. Gunnar rocked back and forth until she could feel the orgasm building.
“I can feel it coming.”
He pressed kisses to her neck and shoulders. “I feel it too. You are clenching around me so damn tight.”
She pushed back against him, urging him deeper as she came in a burst of raw emotion and his fingers went to her clit, rubbing and rolling, extending her pleasure until, with a growl against her ear, he followed her over the edge. Sheloved that he didn’t just pull away, he shuffled closer, staying inside her and sighing deeply.
“I vote for waking like this every day.”
“Me too.” Why was her voice hoarse?
“Sleep a bit. I don’t want to move just yet.”
She didn’t want to move either. When they did, reality would seep in, and they’d have to deal with everything. Everything she wasn’t ready to face just yet.
* * *
“What are we doing?” As soon as she asked the question, she wanted to smack herself for taking the mood from chilled and relaxed to tense and awkward. But in her defense, it had been so long since she’d been intimate with someone other than Battery Barry who lived in her bedside table drawer, she wasn’t sure how things worked any more. And she certainly had no idea what Gunnar wanted to happen. “This is a fling… right?”
Gunnar stepped out of the bathroom with a razor in his hand and his face covered in white. “What now?”
“This.” She waved a hand between them. “Is this just a fling?”
He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head, studying her. If he didn’t answer her soon, she was going to think the answer was yes, it’s a fling. “Do you want it to be?”
NO!
You light my girlie bits on fire.
Fire down there sounds like a problem; you should get that looked at.
By him?
She shook the pillow she held in her arms in an attempt to get herself to focus on the conversation and not his considerable attributes. Why was he shaving naked? Didn’t he know it was next to impossible to focus while his penis was swinging in the freaking breeze? “You shouldn’tanswer a question with a question.” That sounded reasonable… right? She hoped so, because it was all she had right now. Gunnar cleared his throat, and she jerked her eyes back to his face. His smirk told her he knew exactly what she’d been focused on, and it wasn’t the freaking conversation.
“I won’t push you into something you don’t want.”
He disappeared into the bathroom again. She stared at the door, and just knew she’d said the wrong thing. Jorja climbed out of bed and grabbed the nearest item of clothing, one of his discarded t-shirts, and slipped it on over her head. She went to the bathroom door and peered in. Her heart clenched when she saw him standing with both hands on the edge of the sink and his head low. As if he sensed her presence, he lifted his gaze and met hers in the mirror. They stared at each other for long moments, as if trying to figure out what the other was thinking.
“That didn’t come out right,” she said softly. “I have no clue how any of this works.”
“Why?”
She hesitated, unsure what exactly he was asking. “At the risk of sounding stupid or rude, why what?”
