I don’t know how I manage to close my eyes past the pleasure, but the drug is working a little too well as I drift. Even in my state, I can feel everything—the rocking of Maddox over me, the gentle way he caresses and touches me with timid hands, and the building serenity that threatens to burst within me. White-hot lust is what jolts me awake moments later, making my toes curl as a garbled moan slips from my parted lips. Maddox’s mouth crashes over mine, and he swallows my sounds as my vision goes dark.
I’m slow to recover, the drug and my release making me melt into the mattress. There’s still that feeling of wanting to move, but I can’t. It’s the best kind of torture.
“Come back to me,” Maddox grins. “My perfect girl.”
His praise causes heat to flame my cheeks, and I weakly protest as he flips me over. I can’t do much to catch myself as I turn my cheek and press it to the plushness below me.
“Don’t fight,” he muses as he covers me again. “You’re fucking adorable when you try to get away from me.”
This goes on all through the night. I experience mind-numbing bliss as I filter in and out of sleep. Every flash of Maddox I get is gentle and sweet. He moves me around like a ragdoll, putting me in positions as he takes both of our pleasure.
As the early morning light shines through my bedroom’s balcony, I peel my eyes open. Maddox’s bare chest rises and falls against my cheek, and my arm is draped over him. The mask is hanging half off of his face as he sleeps, and as I shift to get a better look at him, the—evidence—of our night causes my thighs to stick together.
Oh…
That’s messy. I need to wash these sheets now.
Maddox groans, turning his head as he lifts a hand to my bicep. He gives me a coy smile. “Good morning…”
I find myself grinning along with him as I rest my chin over his chest. “Good morning.”
We both chuckle, basking in our lazy morning as we make small talk. Getting along with Maddox is easy and fun. He’s quiet, always listening and offering his honest opinion.
Even as I perch on the edge of the bed, he’s silent as he grabs my glucose monitor and test strips. He holds a hand out to me, and I lift a brow.
“Checking my sugar?” I muse as I place my palm over his rougher one.
He seems bashful as he pricks my finger and collects the blood. “I checked it around one this morning, but I want to be sure…”
I didn’t even feel him do that…
Heat uncurls in my chest, spreading down my limbs as appreciation and wonder blossom in me. He’s so different from when we were teenagers.
If anyone told me I would be sitting in my bedroom, my hair ruffled and mussed from some of the best sex I’ve ever had, as Maddox checks my blood sugar, I would have laughed in their face. This dynamic we’re creating is giving me mental whiplash, and I don’t hate it…
I’ve never been doted on. Sure, Charlie and her family worry about me, but Maddox is another story. He’s gentle with me, and it makes everything so bittersweet.
Where was this when I craved it?
And why do I feel like this with him when I couldn’t with any other relationship I’ve ever had?
It’s confusing, but I can’t help that I’m falling at an alarming rate for this new and improved version of him. The army really did change him, and it has me wondering…
Have they all changed?
The monitor blinks, and Maddox frowns. “Seventy-five. Let’s get you some breakfast.”
He puts everything aside, taking my hand as he intertwines our fingers. It’s sickly sweet, and I nearly swoonas he leads me down the stairs. I don’t even think of how we must look with my wrinkled nightie and his boxer-briefs as he guides me into the kitchen.
He pulls out a chair at my island, motioning for me to sit as he takes some eggs and bacon out of the fridge. I watch him, my chin propped in my hand as his beautiful, inked back flexes with his movements. He really is eye candy—tan skin, perfectly sculpted muscles, and that shaggy, dark hair that falls effortlessly into his eyes. Those perfect flashes of last night flicker across my mind, and I’m smiling absently as I stare at him.
The illusion bursts a few moments later when Kairo wanders into the kitchen. He’s dressed in only a pair of loose black shorts as his bare chest glistens with sweat from his morning jog. He removes one of his headphones, his wide eyes bouncing between Maddox and me as he stops in the entrance.
Maddox slides me a mug of coffee and some Splenda with a secretive grin and a panty-melting wink. I take it, hiding my smile behind the rim of my cup.
He returns to the stove, flipping an omelet as Kairo pats his shoulder hard. “I know that look. You two—”
Maddox plants a hand over the blonde’s mouth, shoving him away before he can finish his sentence. Roman stomps into the kitchen, his eyes tired as he cracks his neck and corners the coffee pot. He doesn’t notice the scene until he turns and blinks at me.
