Kolby
It’s not until I roll over and bump up against a very hot, very hard, very male body that I remember I’m not alone. For the first time in forever, there’s someone in my bed with me.
Not just someone. Adam. The only someone I want there.
I thought maybe the last twenty-four hours were a dream. But the flesh-and-blood man lying next to me is oh, so real.
And oh, so fine.
He’s still sound asleep with his back to me, chest rising and falling with his deep, even breaths. I let myself curl around him, closing my eyes and snuggling closer to press a kiss just below his shoulder blade.
One hand snakes up to his chest, where my fingers tangle in the fine, dark hair covering his washboard abs. The few partners I’ve had before have been smooth, almost bare. Maybe that’s why I’m so fascinated with Adam’s lightly furred torso.
He stirs and stretches, letting out a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
“You awake?” I ask.
“Am now,” he mumbles into the mattress. “Thanks to you.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not a morning person,” I tease, smiling against his back.
“Not usually.” He yawns and stretches again, lifting his arms above his head. “It sucked in high school, when we had be on the ice before dawn for practice. But with the right incentive, I could learn to like being an early riser.”
“How’s this for an incentive?” I press my growing erection into his thigh.
His only response is a long, drawn-out moan. I take that as encouragement and run my hand down his abs, following the happy trail of hair to the promised land.
He groans again when my fingers graze his hard-on. I make a fist around him and stroke, slowly at first then faster until he tenses and shudders and begs me to let him come. I do, only to come with him as I grind against his backside.
The tension seeps from my body and I collapse into him, not caring that he’s a hot, sticky mess thanks to me. “Please tell me you don’t have an eight a.m. class.”
“Nope. My only class on Tuesdays is econ, and we’re off this week because the professor has the flu. And I don’t have practice until three. Although I should probably hit the weight room at some point.”
“So we can stay in bed all morning?”
He rolls over to face me, and I’m hit with the full force of those mocha-brown puppy dog eyes and his shy, sleepy smile. It also hits me that it’s the first time we’ve spent the whole night together. Meaning it’s the first time we’re waking up together.
He should have bedhead, right? And morning breath. I’m sure I do. But not Adam. If anything, he’s even more mouthwatering when he’s all rumpled and morning mussed. It gives him a vulnerability that makes him darned near impossible to resist.
Which would be criminally unfair if I wasn’t the beneficiary of all that hotness.
He throws an arm around my shoulder and a leg over my hip, enveloping me in a full-body hug, warm, sweaty skin on warm, sweaty skin. It takes a second for me to recover my senses and realize that his lips are moving.
“I like the sound of that.” He nibbles my earlobe then drags his lips down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. “But what about you? Don’t you have class? Or work?”
Yes to both, but for this I’d skip school and call in sick to V and V. I almost admit that to him, but I stop short, afraid of revealing too much, too soon. Our relationship may have taken a giant leap forward yesterday, but that doesn’t mean all my hang-ups and insecurities have magically disappeared. Everything’s so new, so fragile. I don’t want to do anything to jinx it.
So instead of pouring out my feelings to him, I squirm out of his embrace and sit up. “I don’t have to be at the bookstore until tonight, but I have an RA meeting at ten and movement for actors at two.”
He lifts himself onto his elbows and blinks sleepily. “You have to take a class to learn how to move? Didn’t you figure that out when you were, like, a toddler?”
“It’s about spatial awareness. Listening with your whole body and developing a relationship with your surroundings.”
“Sounds like a lot of woo-woo to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I nudge his knee with mine. “I bet you do some of the same stuff when you play hockey. Like aren’t you supposed to skate with your head up so you know where your teammates are? And play where the puck is going to be, not where it is? That’s spatial awareness.”
He sits up fully and puts his arms around me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Someone’s been studying the game.”
