It was like a little strip show.
I didn’t look good in pajamas the way he did in sweatpants, so I kept my outfit on. I followed him to the sitting room and saw him already seated on the couch with a glass of scotch on the table in front of him. He must have started the fire a second ago because there were new flames consuming the logs in the hearth.
I joined him in the living room, seeing the glass of wine already sitting there.
He looked me over, but not in a good way, as if he liked what he saw, but with a hint of disapproval.
“What?”
“Why are you wearing that?”
“Clothes?”
“How am I supposed to grab your ass in jeans?” he asked point-blank.
“Well, I don’t have anything cute like you do.”
“Cute?” he asked.
“Yeah…your sweatpants are really sexy.”
He didn’t smirk at the compliment.
“Well, you make them look really sexy.”
“The top drawer of my dresser.” He nodded back toward the bedroom. “Wear one of my shirts.”
I felt a chill at the prospect. His big shirt would be like a blanket over my body, Imbued with the scent of his laundry detergent. The ownership of having his shirt, and the ownership he would possess watching me wear one of his shirts.
I returned to the closet and opened the drawer to find the stack of clean clothes there. Shirts, socks, boxers. I grabbed the one on top, black with the expensive label printed at the back of the neck. I undressed and put it on, leaving only my panties underneath.
It fit me like I expected, like a long pea coat without sleeves, a thin but warm blanket. It fell to just above my knee, and the neckline was so big, it exposed one of my shoulders. When I came back into the room, I saw him sitting in the glow of the fire, firing off a text on his phone, his skin a beautiful complexion in the light.
I stared at him for a moment, examining his profile and his hard jawline, the thickness of his shoulders. For a man who didn’t seem to care about anyone, he sure seemed to care about me. He had given me a life that had been taken away. A new start.
I moved past the armchair and approached the couch.
He left the phone on the coffee table and looked at me again. This time, I was met with quiet approval, his eyes dropping down to where my legs were exposed past the voluminous shirt. His hand moved underneath the shirt to my ass, and he tugged me forward.
I gently fell on top of him, and his hard body caught me. I landed in a perfect snuggle in his arms, his back against the corner of the couch, his chest the hardest but most comfortable mattress I’d ever lain on.
Like he knew exactly how to treat a woman, he pulled me into him and locked me in place.
In the comfort of his arms, I stared at the fire, feeling his chest gently rise and fall with the calm breaths he took. His fingers moved, lightly touching the strands of my hair. I could lie like that forever, basking in the protection of the only man who could slay my demons.
At least half an hour passed, but it felt like a minute or two. The silent comfort of his presence, the way we could just be togetherwithout the pressure of expectation. I wanted this man inside me, but I wanted to feel him in my heart too.
I adjusted myself so I could look at him, see the hard eyes that rarely softened. “I would love to know what happened…if you want to tell me.” I wanted to know everything about him, everything he was willing to share.
He seemed to understand what I was referring to. The hard question I’d asked at dinner.
His eyes shifted away, and he looked at the fire for a while. A quiet breath started in his chest, and it rose and rose until his lungs ran out of space. Then he let it out slowly. “My mom was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trusted a man she never should have trusted. She should have come first, but she came last—every fucking time.” He gave a slow nod before he looked at me again. “And my father…got what he deserved in the end.”
He carried me to the bed and dropped me onto the surface.
I bounced slightly on the mattress, and then he snaked his hands under my shirt and tugged it up before he yanked down my panties. His big hands grabbed the backs of my thighs, and he pulled me gently until he had me where he wanted me. He kissed my belly, the skin below my tits, swiping his tongue around my belly button ring before he moved down, slowly inching to the area between my thighs.
He kissed everything, my inner thighs, the delicate skin along the edge of my folds, making me breathe heavily in anticipation.
