“Feel good?”
“Mmm,” I let out a moan, reclining back against the armrest and pushing my foot deeper into Preston’s palm.
“Tell me what you need.”
“Do that again.” Preston digs his knuckle deeper into the arch of my foot.
“God, yes, that feels so good.” Preston fidgets in his seat, a clear indication he is as worked up as I am.
“What do you think?” I ask, trying to distract us both. The infamous rain scene from Season 3 of the show I starred in during my teenage and young adult years plays on the screen.
“It’s a good scene.” He’s still massaging my foot as we watch an episode of my old show until it feels limp then moves to the other foot. “I like ours better though.”
Thoughts of that first kiss play through my mind and only serves to turn me on even more. Once both feet are thoroughly massaged, he lays them back in his lap.
“Thank you. I forgot how good that feels. I miss massages.”
“Happy to help anytime.”
“Be careful what you volunteer for.”
“I’d volunteer to walk through fire if it meant getting to you.” The credits start running on the screen. “Ready for bed, sleepy?”
Preston gets off the couch and turns off the lights in the kitchen. He waits until I get off the couch and walk into the bedroom before turning off the living room lamps as well. We are shrouded in darkness for a second before I find the bedside lamp and a light glow shines around the bedroom. Preston walks in carrying two water bottles and looking like every dream I’ve ever had come to life. I can’t believe I’m about to share a bedwith this man. I hope I don’t do anything embarrassing. Like snore. Or drool. Or hump him.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping in here?” Always the gentleman. Preston offers me the second water bottle and puts his on the nightstand on his side of the bed.
“I’m sure,” I say, turning my lamp off, pulling back the gray quilt and sliding in between the matching sheets. The cotton feels soft on my skin. Cool air drafts over my body when Preston pulls the covers back on his side and he climbs in the bed. It’s a queen-size bed so there is a little space between us but we are still close to each other. I can’t see him very well in the dark but I can sense him. I can feel the bed move as he gets comfortable, and hear his soft breaths. It wouldn’t take much to reach out and touch him. My legs could easily twine with his beneath the sheets. Our breaths could mingle with the slightest adjustment of our heads on the pillows. None of that happens.
Instead, Preston simply says, “Goodnight, Ivory.” And he gets comfortable on his side, facing me.
“Goodnight,” I whisper into the dark room then fall into the most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time with Preston’s deep breathing as my soundtrack.
My head is on a hard surface.That’s my first thought as I wake up. My pillow wasn’t this hard last night. It takes me a few beats to realize the hard surface beneath my cheek is a chest. Not just any chest, but Preston’s tanned toned, chiseled man chest.
Oh my god, I am sleeping on Preston.
We must have migrated towards each other last night in our sleep. I distinctly remember falling asleep on my pillow with a clear divide between our bodies.
Slowly, my brain catches up to what my other senses are already telling me. My leg is draped over Preston’s thigh. My arm is resting across Preston’s abdomen. His full six pack looks evenbetter this close. My cheek is pressed against his chest. I really hope I didn’t drool on him. Once my brain finally registers all the ways my body is melted into Preston’s, I notice how his body is responding to mine.
He still appears to be asleep if the deep inhales are anything to go by. Preston is laying on his back. One arm is wrapped around my back holding me close, hence my cheek pressed into his chest. The other arm is resting somewhere between my arm at his hip and my knee. He’s caging me into his body. I feel his breath on my hair and only then realize that his face must be buried in my hair.
And yet, none of this feels unnatural. It feels like we have been sleeping together like this for ages. It’s nice. I’m in no hurry to move.
“Can you stop thinking so hard? You’re disturbing my sleep.” Okay, well I guess he isn’t still sleeping.
“I’m not thinking about anything.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
“I’m not ly—” My words are cut off, replaced with a screech as Preston flips me onto my back and digs his fingertips into my sides tickling me. Squirming beneath him, I try to gain the upper hand but it’s no use. Preston pins my arms above my head and his lower body falls between my open thighs. Our cores are flush. His morning situation is as impressive as it was in the hot tub. A fire spreads through my body. He’s so close. So warm and hard and ready. He already told me he’s ready and waiting for me. How long will he wait? How long will he be ready if I don’t make a move? Do I want to risk losing this opportunity?
Preston draws me out of my thoughts when his hand falls to my face. He gently cups my cheek pushing the loose strands of hair behind my ear. It’s a tender caress. It feels more intimate than the connection between our physical bodies. The way Preston looks at me feels like he is peering deep into my soul. I feel it in the recesses of my mind. I feel it in my bones. I feel it reach into my chest like he is holding my heart in the palm of hishand. This feeling isn’t any old feeling. There is something here. Preston was right about that. I need to be brave enough to explore it.
“Hi,” Preston whispers, his breath feathering over my parted lips.
“Hi.” I sound breathless even to my own ears. He’s so close. I could kiss him if I just tipped my chin up and closed the few inches of separation.
