Waves of heat roll down my spine, and my breath catches raggedly as those lips feather over my skin, pausing to linger and suck where their touch makes me let out a muffled moan into the pillow.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Tristan’s low laugh vibrates across my skin as his hand skates down my back, stopping only when his fingers meet the waistband of my pajamas.
Jesus, I don’t think I can remember how to breathe—
“Do I still have to be good this morning, or…” he whispers against my neck before trailing off, letting his fingers dip just under the material to teasingly skate over my hip and around toward my front.
I’m trying to find the mental capacity to tell him to stop, or the will to move enough to catch hold of his hand and stop him myself, when my phone pings again. Suddenly, I remember the snow last night and the promise I’d made to Alex that, if the weather forecasts proved to be correct, I’d be at their house by ten this morning to see the twins playing in the snow.
From the brightness and angle of the light streaming in through the thin curtains, I’m guessing I’ve slept way later than I’d meant to. I’m probably already late to Alex’s.
“Unfortunately, that makes it ayesabout being good,” I exhale into the pillow, figuring it doesn’t hurt to let my disappointment show since I have to go anyway. Not that I don’t want to go see the twins. Far from it in fact, but that does nothing to change how little I want to leave Tristan and my bed and whatever might happen if I were to stay….
“Shame,” he teasingly sulks, and, though he doesn’t try to stop me from moving, he definitely doesn’t help either. Instead, he stays draped over me as he, most unhelpfully, returns to exploring the back of my neck with his lips.
Extracting myself from under him so I can grab my phone from the nightstand involves mustering an incredible amount of resolve, but I do it. And thank god he lets me go, otherwise every ounce of that resolve would have crumbled in an instant.
Apparently accepting temporary defeat, Tristan scoots to the side a bit, giving me space to check my messages as my phone pings yet again in my hand. I’m not too proud to admit to myself that I mourn every inch of his distance.
Swiping past my lock screen, which informs me it’s already past ten, so yes, I am indeed late, I find, as expected, that all four messages are from Alex.
Alex:You get lost on your way?
A photo of the twins out in the snow comes next. They’re so bundled up in coats and hats and snow pants that I can barely find their faces under all the layers. From what I can see though, both of them are grinning from ear to ear.
Then, finally:
Alex:Get your ass over here!
Alex:Unless… Jess, did you finally manage to get some???
“I’ve got to go,” I tap open the picture of the twins so that it, andnotAlex’s messages, particularly not that last one, is the only thing visible on my phone. I hold it up to show Tristan as I explain about the twins and how Alex made me promise to come over this morning.
There’s an awkward moment where I’m not sure if I should invite him or not, but he glosses it over, flashing me a deadly smile as his teeth tug softly at his lower lip. “Think you might want to pick this up where we left off after you get back?”
My nod is definitely too fast and too hard to remotely count as playing it cool. Does it really matter though, based on the way Tristan’s smile slowly splits into a grin so full of promise that it has every inch of my skin heating and my dick thickening?
Even so, the undeniable physical attraction I feel toward him is only a piece of the eagerness and anticipation flooding through me at his question.
Yes, Iwanthim. Fucking Christ, I want him like I’d never imagined wanting anyone.
But I also want to know him. To just simply be near him.
Despite the list of amazing things I’ve learned about the complex, beautiful man lying beside me, there isn’t one specific thing I can put my finger on that accounts for what I’m beginning to feel for him. Not even the sum total of it all really makes the yearning draw I feel toward him make sense.
I can’t explain, even to myself, the strength of my need to close the distance between us and take him in my arms and not let go until I know his every last secret and hurt and joyand dream and he knows all of mine. To hold him and to run my fingers through his hair and watch his face light up as he laughs…
Forgetting for the moment all about Alex and the twins and morning breath, I edge closer to Tristan.
He’s lying on his back with his head tilted toward me, and this time, he doesn’t move to initiate anything. Just watches with a lazily eager expression on his face as I lean in, letting the upper half of my body cover his as my hands run slowly up his arms. Under me, I can feel the movement of his chest quicken in time with my own, and, as my fingers drift from his shoulders to graze over the bare skin that covers his collarbones, his pupils blow wide, swallowing the hazel warmth of his eyes in heated darkness.
His gaze follows as mine drops to his lips, curved up in a knowing smile that makes me shiver against him as desire licks over my skin. With a shuddering breath, I let my forehead fall to press against his as my hands skim up to either side of his jaw.
And I don’t feel hollow. I don’t feel empty or wrong or—
And then my fucking phone lets out another fucking ping.
