Would he kill anyone who even breathed wrong in my direction?
My hands shook even harder.
I couldn’t let that happen. Who was I kidding, though? No one controlled Creighton. I came the closest, but there were limitations to that control.
He hadn’t moved when I returned. He tracked me as I moved around the room, slipping on some clothes. I pulled his sweatshirt back on. I was loath to part with it.
It was Friday so I had three classes to go to today.
I didn’t bother with socks or my shoes, sliding back into bed with Creighton.
There was a new mug of coffee on my nightstand. I reached for it, feeling it was warm. “You made a third pot?”
He just continued to watch me with no emotion. “I want to make sure your morning is good.”
I paused, taking him in for a moment. Warmth filled me. I left the coffee where it was and moved to him, cupping the side of his face.
He reached for me, pulling me to straddle his lap.
I was suddenly up close and personal with him again, and somehow it seemed awkward. I’d never experienced this feeling with Creighton. My mouth twitched. He skimmed his hands up my arms before one palmed the front of my throat.
I went still.
He didn’t pull me to him, and he didn’t tighten his hold. It wasn’t painful. It was possessive.
“I can’t read you. You’re all over the place.” His hand shifted as he said that, two of his fingers resting over my pulse.
I further relaxed, the little awkwardness melting out of me. He was the same. “This is just new for us. That’s all. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. I mean, we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“We aren’t?”
I frowned. “Uh . . .”
“Is that what you want?”
I blinked. “What?”
“What do you need? I could pretend to be the normal boyfriend, but you’d get angry. You’d know I was faking, so I’m being myself. But is that what you want?”
And that made me a little sad. It was a reminder that I would never get what was normal. And also sad at myself for making him think he needed to be fake for me.
“I don’t want you to be anyone other than yourself.”
Something flicked in his eyes. It was so fast, I couldn’t place it, but then he was pulling me to him. I rested my hands to his chest, and without thinking, I maneuvered my hands so they were resting over his heart as well. Our lips met. It was sweet. Tender. Completely surprising.
He didn’t deepen it, seemingly content to continue a gentle exploration.
It felt good. The warmth spread through me, and before long, I sank down into him. My hands twined around his neck, and I strained against him, wanting to get as close as possible. His other hand fell to my hip, sliding over it before moving to my waist. He slipped underneath my shirt, moved to my back, and he lifted me up once more to readjust us. As I was brought back down on him, I felt his hard-on, and I rolled over it.
I moaned at the pleasure that ricocheted in me. That felt so good.
My heart was pumping.
I asked against his lips, “Is it always like this? Or is it like this because it’s you?”
He froze against my mouth. His hand tightened for a fraction on my throat. He lifted my head away from his and growled. “You’re thinking about trying this with others?”
Some of the lust fell away. “What? No.”
