I trail a finger over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“I need ten minutes of shuteye, and then it’s on, Freckles.”
Laughing, I fall on the bed next to him. “What’s on?”
He cracks open one eye. “You on my cock.”
A shiver runs through me at the promise of that. “Ten minutes of sleep and then sex.”
“That’s our agenda.” He runs a fingertip over one of my perked nipples before he wraps his arm around my waist. “Close your eyes and dream a nice short dream.”
“About you fucking me?” I ask playfully.
Edging closer to me, he brushes a kiss over my lips. “You’ll need a hell of a lot longer than that to dream about me fucking you. I told you once that I take my time. With you, I want to take forever.”
I shut my eyes to soak in those words.
Forever.
If this is what forever with him feels like, I want it.
Sitting straight up,I struggle to place where I am. The room is flooded with sunlight. It’s morning. I must have drifted off to sleep at some point.
I glance to my side, but the bed is empty.
Case.
I was with Case.
A loud thump echoes through the hallway outside the door of the main bedroom.
“I’m coming.” Case’s voice carries through the space.
The door? Is someone knocking on the apartment door?
Whoever is on the other side of it doesn’t understand the meaning of the word patience. A series of dull thuds fill the silence as I swing my legs over the side of the bed in a panic.
My panties and tank top are in the hallway where I left them after I stripped for Case last night.
His jeans aren’t on the floor where he dropped them. He’s at least half-dressed, which is fifty percent better than being nude like I am.
I tug on the sheet, thinking I can wrap it around me, but it doesn’t give. Whoever comes in to take care of cleaning this place has bed-making skills that put me to shame.
I toss my duvet over my bed at home every morning, throw my pillow back in place and call it a day.
“I need a robe,” I mutter to myself as I hear Case talking to someone.
He wouldn’t let that person in, would he? He knows that I’m in his bed.
I quickly pace around the room, searching for anything that I can use to cover myself.
Relief washes through me when I spot a white button-down shirt draped over the back of a chair. I grab it, slide it over my arms, and do up two buttons that are level with my navel.
It’s a look I’d never willingly choose, but all the sensitive parts of me are covered.
My parents would be proud.
I laugh at that. I slept with a man I haven’t known very long. I did things that I’ve only ever fantasized about. My parents would be mortified.
