“I thought you didn’t do relationships.” The last word came out breathless, as inconsequential as air.
“Thought so, too.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You.” He rubbed his nose to mine, gently, slowly. “Us.”
“We barely know each other.” Strangely, this didn’t feel true, but I had to say it.
“I know you.” A long, slow slide of his rough cheek against mine. “Iknowyou, Christa Evans.”
“How’d this happen?” I whispered.
Was I obsessed because he’d saved my life? Possibly.Maybe?How could I not be? And while it wasn’t necessarily the best idea to start a relationship like this,so what?
Lifelong friendships could be built on a person saving another’s life, right? I’d heard stories about that. Couldn’t love happen the same way? Would it somehow be more kosher if we’d met at a dinner party or a bar?
Hell, no.
“Don’t know how it happened and I’m not gonna question it. I don’t want to be the loner on the mountain anymore, avoiding life. The people I love. Besides…” he leaned in close “…couldn’t leave you with two seventy-year-olds making out like teenagers on the sofa.”
I shuddered with a grin. “Don’t remind me.”
“Guy must have moves, though, getting it on with the hot granny on Christmas Day.”
“Iguess.”
“I want that when I’m eighty. And I’m a lucky bastard.” He kissed me again, slow and wet and deep. By the end, he had to hold me up. “’Cause I already found the woman to do it with, Christa Evans, and I’m never letting her go.”
Epilogue
One month later
“We’ll be late, Micah.”
“Just give me another minute.” I tightened my arm around the warm, pliant body in my arms, put my nose to Christa’s nape and inhaled her the way I consumed food or air. Like I needed it to live.
I had to get her taste in my mouth.
I tore the comforter back. Giggling, she put her hand on mine to stop me. “No time.”
“It’ll be quick,” I promised, anchoring her hip with one palm while I shimmied down, muttering that I just needed enough to tide me over for the rest of the day.
“This is important, Micah, you’re gonna make me look…”
I shouldered her thighs apart, sucked in a deep, happy breath, and took a long, slow look before pulling her lips open and licking her good morning.
“Oooooooooooh, God.”
This. This was the stuff, right here—endless spooning, slow, half-asleep kisses, easy, honest conversations, languid sex with our eyes still shut, and my girlfriend’s pussy in the morning, wet and waiting. Wanting me the way I wanted her—with this constant, aching hunger—except a good hunger. The kind worked up from a long, hard day’s work.
I licked her hot, sweet place, ran my nose along the plush softness, nibbled for about five seconds and finally let myself taste inside.
A swipe of my tongue up and up until I reached her little jewel of a clit. Time was of the essence, so I took it between my lips and sucked before flicking it with my tongue in the way that made her lose her mind.
Almost immediately, Christa’s body shook with those quick, urgent pants that told me her climax was seconds away. Except we didn’t have time for multiple orgasms this morning. We had time for one. And I wanted hers to happen on my cock.
“Hold on, baby,” I whispered, climbing her body until I was lined up with her and, though I’d planned to slide right in, I stopped, frozen in place.
