We fucked slow and deep for what felt like ages, concentrating on keeping the water in the bath. I’d never done anything like it before, never been so close to a person as in that moment. Like I knew her, inside and out. Like every tight contraction was a hug.
Her back to my front, her ass on my lap, my body inside her, all I could do was put my face to her shoulder and breathe.
You’re my dream woman, Christa Evans. And I don’t even know you.
29
Christa
I’m not sure how he knew it was time, but he reached around and put his hand to my clit to rub me. Even that movement was slow, languorous, more about pleasure than the end goal.
I could almost fall asleep like this, in his arms in the warm bath. Except his finger, slow though it was, had started a spark and the orgasm couldn’t be far behind.
I turned my head, caught his eyes and watched them flare hot.
“Micah.” The name came out of my mouth, as syrupy and warm as everything else about this moment.
Not an explosion, but a deep thrumming that emanated outward, heating everything in its glow. I bore down on him, moaning and breathing hard and, right on the tail end of it, he thrust up with a wounded-sounding noise of his own, and joined me in this immense, intimate moment.
In the afterglow, I lay back on him, boneless, as tears slid down my face.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
I couldn’t be in love with him already. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t, dammit.
“You okay?”
All I could do was nod, sniffling back in an attempt to hide that I was—yet again—crying.
“Bed?”
I nodded again and stood up, releasing him from my body as I did. With a slosh of water, he half rose behind me, sat on the side of the tub and snagged a towel to wrap around me. We dried off silently and quickly. After drying off completely and putting his leg back on, he gave me a couple minutes alone, saying something about heading back out to check on things.
I avoided the mirror.
His bed was cold and smelled like him and I worked hard to keep all this teary emotion inside.Good God, woman, keep it together.
He returned and stood silhouetted in the door for a few seconds before speaking. “I wanna come in there, but I don’t want to assume.”
In answer, I pulled back the covers. He sat on the bed, removed his prosthesis, and slid in beside me. His cold hands on my waist made me squeal, but when he tried pulling them away with an apology, I grabbed them and held them to me.
“It’s the least I can do. You’re off in the woods, turning generators on and off and I’m just lolling around your house.”
“Naked.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he wrapped his body around mine. Perfect spoons.
“And waiting.”
“Got to tell you, Christa, this is the stuff fantasies are made of.”
I wouldn’t let that go to my heart. It was a dirty weekend. He didn’t do relationships. Besides, though I’d let him inside my brain and my body, it wasn’t like we knew each other. “Glad I can fulfill them for you.”
He didn’t respond. The silence dragged out.
“It’s a lot of work, putting on your prosthetic leg and taking it off again, every time you get into bed or a shower or whatever.”
“Don’t mind. Used to it now.”
“Must have been hard when it first happened.”
