Page 37 of Daring to Love

9

Amelie

Gosh, I can’t wrap my head around it.

There’s a naked man asleep in my bedroom.

A very naked, really sexy naked bloke who took my virginity.

I watch Finlay sleeping for a while, not caring in the least that it could be construed as creepy. I have to remind myself he’s actually here.

Our lovemaking today – or, judging by the sunrise I see through the French door windows, it must’ve been yesterday. I blink when the fact we slept in each other’s arms all night tears through me. I glance over my shoulder to look at the alarm clock on my bedside table.

Okay, some may consider it’s still night, because it says four-oh-seven.

But I can’t fall asleep, I’m too wound up. I try to be as quiet as I can, not ruffling the duvet on top of us too much and slide to the side, but then stop, twinging at the low throb between my legs.

To be honest, I’m also too sore, but as I stop moving and take in the ache and soreness of my limbs, I realise it’s not a sharp pain as I’d feared. It didn’t even hurt that much when he thrust inside me. I blush a deep crimson when I think back on it, then breathe deeply, quelling the desire that wants to erupt inside me again.

I focus on the ache again, and that does the trick. It’s more like the way my muscles feel after a particularly exhausting dancing session; the only difference is the ache between my legs, and slowly, I move from Finlay’s side to go to the bathroom.

I need to process all that’s transpired between us and I can’t do that when he’s awake, looking and tempting me in that smouldering, intense way he has. I quirk my lips, tiptoeing out of my bedroom.

Yes, his eyes smoulder. Who’d have thought that part about men would be real?

I’m sure that Finlay isn’t anything like a book boyfriend, but despite us not really knowing each other yet, I have a feeling he comes pretty bloody close. My heart flutter in my chest knowing that he’ll be here when I return from my shower, and I can’t keep back the goofy grin on my lips.

Nevertheless, I’m a practical girl – erm, woman – and I need to think.

As I shut the door to my bathroom, my stomach growls loudly, and I giggle. Evidently, I also need to eat, and I decide to make French toast for breakfast.

Plan firmly in place, I open the frosted glass doors and turn on my shower. The water cascades down, and knowing it’ll take a minute or so before it gets to the right temperature, I close the doors and turn around the spacious room. Next to my bedroom, this is my favourite – big, airy with the white walls and black-and-white chequered flooring, and there’s enough room for both a closet and a white clawfoot tub with lion’s heads next to the window that overlooks my small back garden. The fixtures look vintage, but aren’t – thank goodness for the modern world we live in.

I take down my dressing robe hanging from a peg on the side of the closet, shivering a little, but before I take it on, my gaze catches on my body mirrored in the huge mirror hanging above the sink in the other end. I walk towards it, my robe forgotten, to look closely at my body.

Even though I turn every which way, making sure to take in every crevice and dip of my body, I can’t say I look different from yesterday. My eyes don’t shine knowingly, either – I glance down at my lips and raise a hand to rub them. They are still swollen, but not sore, thank goodness. But I feel different…more than a physical change has happened inside of me and it won’t ever return to the way it was before Fin rammed straight into my life.

Iwon’t be the same. He’s made an impact on my life in such a short time, and no matter what happens, I won’t ever forget the way he made me feel.

Wanted. Treasured. Cared for.

Oh, how he cared…the tenderness in his eyes almost made me cry. I know I didn’t imagine it.

I turn back from the mirror, nibbling on my chafing lips.

But…the question is if he feels as deeply for me as I feel for him?

I never lie to myself, and I’m not going to start now. I’m halfway in love with him – maybe even two-thirds head over heels in love, actually – but isn’t it too soon? It hasn’t even been a week since we met. Before then, I’d have laughed to my friends if they’d come to me, confiding their love for a man they’d only just started seeing. I’d have scoffed at them. I wouldn’t believe it could happen. Despite the fact I’m such an incorrigible romantic, I’m also a realist, and feeling as strongly for a man in such a short amount of time is completely crazy.

I shake my head as I step inside my shower, exhausted by all the questions swirling inside my head. The moment the water hits my back and warms my muscles, I sigh in pleasure.

Thinking will have to wait.

Seeing to myself, and cooking breakfast, can’t.

* * *

“Fuck me.”