"Right. Boots first," he muttered, sitting heavily on the edge of her bed to wrestle with the laces. “Should have left them at the front door like I did before.”
She took advantage of his distraction to shimmy out of her leggings, which proved easier in theory than execution. The stretchy material clung to her legs like a second skin, and she wiggled in an ungraceful shimmy to get them past her hips.
"Need help?" Casper asked, looking up from his boots with amusement.
"I have it," she said, then promptly lost her balance and stumbled sideways into her dresser.
"Smooth," she muttered to herself, finally kicking the leggings away in triumph. “Why is this always sexier in the movies?”
He chuckled, and she turned back to him. He stood in just his boxer briefs and exhaled a long, slow breath. The man was absolutely magnificent. He was all lean muscle and masculine beauty that made her feel like a teenager again. “Okay, I was wrong. This is by far sexier than any movie I’ve ever watched.”
His eyes traveled over her body with evident appreciation. “Now we both can stare.”
"I'm definitely staring," she admitted, moving toward him. "And I plan to do a lot more than just that."
When they came together again, skin against skin, the fumbling and awkwardness melted away into something much more primal and perfect. His hands mapped the curves of her body with reverent attention, while hers explored the fascinating landscape of muscle and warm skin that she'd been dreaming about.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her neck, his voice rough with desire.
"So are you," she breathed, then laughed softly. "Is it weird to call a man beautiful?"
"Don’t know. No one’s ever called me that before. But coming from you, I’m honored," he said, lifting her and laying her gently on the bed.
Discover and desire, tender exploration punctuated by moments of desperate need. They learned each other's responses, what made the other gasp with pleasure, and how to move together in perfect synchronization.
When he finally moved over her, his eyes searching hers for permission, she reached up to frame his face with her hands.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained with restraint.
"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered.
Their coming together was both gentle and fierce, tender and passionate. They moved as though they'd been made for each other, finding a rhythm that called to something deeper than physical attraction.
Afterward, they lay entwined in the soft lamplight, hearts still racing, skin damp with perspiration. Casper's arm was wrapped around her, holding her close against his side, while her head rested on his chest.
"That was..." She was unable to find adequate words.
"Yeah," he agreed, his voice rumbling beneath her ear.
"The casserole will definitely need to be reheated," she said after a moment.
"Worth it," he replied immediately, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She lifted herself to look at him, noting the relaxed expression on his face, the way his usual guardedness had disappeared entirely. "No regrets?"
"None," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She smiled and settled against his chest, feeling more content and complete than she had in years. Whatever complications this might create, whatever questions it raised about their professional relationship, she couldn't bring herself to care.
For the first time since the stalking had begun, she felt completely safe and utterly cherished. And as sleep began to claim her in the circle of Casper's protective arms, she knew that everything had changed between them in the most wonderful way possible.
25
Casper sat with his back against the headboard in Willow’s comfortable bed. He balanced a plate of casserole in his hands as she snuggled nearby. They both dipped their forks in the same dish, and he relished the intimate act of sharing a plate of food with someone he cared about.
Of course the fact that they were still naked added a layer of intimacy to the meal. After they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, they’d woken a few hours later for round two, which ended with another round of energetic, athletic sex in the shower. Then Willow had thrown on a robe, tied it at the waist, and headed to the kitchen. She returned with a plate of casserole, fruit on the side, two forks, and two large brownies. Under her arm, she carried bottles of water. “Hungry?” she’d taunted with a grin.
“For you? Absolutely.” He sniffed the plate with appreciation and grinned in return. “For food? You, me, in bed after sex, and food to refuel? Oh, hell yeah.”
