It wasn’t just the heat of the passionate moment, though. There was a trace of anxiety as I realized the implication.
He wanted me on top.
There was nothing wrong with that, per se, and in many ways I enjoyed it, but I was always nervous I was doing something wrong. Grinding too much, throwing off the rhythm, never knowing where to put my hands. Then I turned twenty-five and started to experience knee pain.
Needless to say, this position always turned my anxious feelings up a notch, and I felt myself hesitating even now.
“Is everything okay?” Landon asked, hands still on my hips. “We can stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I rushed to assure him. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.”
A genuine smile pushed his cheeks high. “I feel the same way. But it’s just us. No matter what happens, that’s true.”
I nodded as my blood slowed, thickening in my veins. Landon was right. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it was still us.
When I positioned myself above him, his expression changed, his smile tapering off at the corners of his mouth, his eyes darkening with anticipation. Slowly, I sank down, and we let out matching sighs. The stretch was heavenly—moderate enough so that it felt good without being too overwhelming.
To his credit, Landon helped me find a rhythm that worked for both of us. Once we did, he moved one hand to my breast, teasing a nipple. The second hand caressed my leg.
Dark moans and breathy pleas filled the room. I hadn’t felt this close, this connected, to someone in a long time. Without any idea of where Landon started and I ended. Just the thought of it was a turn-on.
I leaned forward to capture his lips with mine for a quick, soft kiss.
“I don’t know how long I can last,” said Landon, sounding somewhere between in pain and pleased.
“It’s okay. Let go.”
He did, seconds later, with reckless compliments and words that didn’t even fully make sense.
Afterward, I settled close to Landon, his arm around me. I laid my head on his bicep and stared at his face. The small stubble around his mouth, his tan skin, the crooked nose. Beautiful. Mine.
Landon kissed my hair. “Guess this means we should shower together now.”
21
LANDON
I woke up surrounded by peace.
For the first time in I didn’t know how long, I wasn’t waking up with a knot in my chest or a to-do list choking the air from my lungs. No restless pacing over my future, no wondering if I’d already screwed things up with Kira beyond repair. Just the soft light filtering in through the curtain and the steady rhythm of her breathing beside me.
Despite the bumps last night, everything was perfect. Okay, maybe not perfect, but I was confident we would figure everything out. The diner’s opening. Kira’s art residency application. They all felt like obstacles I could take on with Kira by my side.
I had been terrified of losing her for those excruciating minutes. She was right to confront me about the job interview. Stupid of me to keep it hidden in the first place, but I had been blinded by fear and confusion.
Kira’s naked body curled into mine, bringing me into the present. The warmth and comfort she brought suffused me, and I rested my head above hers. I pressed a kiss to her hairline, letting the scent of her shampoo sink into me.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, her voice barely audible, muffled by the pillow.
I turned toward the nightstand. “Eight on the dot.”
She groaned and stretched, arms reaching overhead, nearly smacking me in the temple.
“Careful.” I caught her wrist with a lazy grin. “I’ve survived heartbreak and kitchen disasters. Don’t let me go down via sleepy girlfriend’s elbow.”
She grinned, eyes still mostly closed. “I haven’t slept this late in forever.”
“You think eight is late?” I arched my brow. “Who hurt you?”
