Neither of us spoke for a long time.
“I can’t feel my legs,” I finally said.
His laugh rumbled through his chest into my back. “That’s my fault.” There was no denying the pride in his voice. “Sorry?”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Are you missing Plundering John then?”
“I think I’ll be throwing him out.”
“Not until I watch you use him at least once.”
“It’s a deal.” I turned in his arms to face him. His hair had fallen forward, and I brushed it back.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“We just had sex.”
“We did.”
“Really good sex.”
His smile was crooked. “I’m glad you thought so.”
“I’m pretty sure I forgot my own name halfway through.”
“I noticed.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “Was I too loud?”
“No.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I loved every sound you made.”
“Even the weird ones?”
“Especially those.”
I buried my face against his chest. “I made weird sounds, didn’t I?”
“They were perfect.”
We lay together while my heartbeat slowly returned to normal, me tracing patterns on his chest without thinking about it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Sketching you.”
“I can’t wait to see what you’ve created.”
We had six days to figure out what this was before we had to face my father and explain the unexplainable.
“Don’t think about that yet,” he said, reading my thoughts in the way he’d been reading my body.
“It’s hard not to.”
“I agree. But right now, you’re here. We’re together. That’s enough.”
