Page 82 of Without You

Brody

Ihope she knows she’s never getting rid of me now. Never. I won’t let her go. She’s mine.

The only thing that could have made last night more perfect was if I had gone in with nothing between us. But she hesitated and that small hesitation means she’s not completely ready for that. Disappointing? A little. Understandable. Absolutely. Never would I want for her to not be okay with anything between us and if that means waiting until she’s ready, that’s completely okay.

We’ve got time.

Besides, I have a feeling it isn’t me, in particular, that she hesitated about. Maybe she isn’t on birth control of any kind or maybe she’s just never been without a condom before. Whatever her reason is, it’s her reason and I’m supportive. We’ve actually never had that conversation yet so it’s one of those that will have to happen.

This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up with Katie in my arms, but it’s the first time we’ve woken up naked and it’s my new favorite way. When she got completely naked in front of me, I thought I was going to come on the spot. I have no idea what she was shy about, her body is incredible. Katie is petite, always has been, but she’s got these curves that do some kind of something to me.

She’s naked in my arms right this second and all I need to do is look down at her, but my mind is conjuring up images of last night like the highlight reel of the Super Bowl. Three times we had each other and I’m ready for a fourth, fifth… sixteenth.

Every woman I’ve been with before Katie is long forgotten.

Sex was nothing in comparison to what we shared last night.

She begins to stir beneath me and I hold my breath as her little hand glides across my stomach, her finger doing a little figure-8 across my abs that she seems to be obsessed with.

“Morning,” she says quietly, her voice a direct line to my already hard dick.

Her lips join the good morning party and begin peppering soft kisses across my skin, her long blonde hair fanned out around us.

“Good morning.” My voice is low and gruff, but it’s not only because of the morning. It’s what she’s doing to me. Lying beside her all night, experiencing her for the first time, having her in my arms and knowing that we’re together, it has me feeling emotions I don’t remember feeling before.

While her lips continue their assault on my upper body, I let my hand do a little exploration of its own. Down her spine and back up, cupping the back of her neck with my hand and giving her a gentle squeeze before descending once again.

Her ass is right there so I slide my hand over one cheek, flex my fingers once, twice, and a third time on the other cheek. I don’t know if she’ll allow it, but I decide to try anyway, slipping between her cheeks, down the crack, and around her from the backside. She doesn’t flinch but she does mewl and I take that as a good sign.

“You’re ready for me,” I tell her, feeling her wetness.

“Yes,” she whispers.

I roll her over and kiss my way down her body, stopping at her belly button. Her legs drop to the sides, allowing me room between her and I kiss my way back up her body, giving attention to her breasts. They’re not small but slightly more than a handful and I love them. I will spend hours getting acquainted with them. And, lucky me, I’ve noticed they’re incredibly sensitive.

Case in point, right now, as she squirms and all I’ve done is flicked one nipple with the tip of my tongue. Okay, so it was repeatedly, but still.

I chuckle and shift so I’m fully above her, lean over to grab a condom, and she stops me.

“What’s wrong? Are you sore?” I should have thought of that. We had sex three times last night, little of it was slow and gentle, and it might have been too much.

Her hand is still on my arm and she tugs. She gives her head a little shake. “No. But last night I hesitated because I’d never gone without a condom before. I’ve never felt comfortable enough with someone not to. I’m on birth control because I always wanted the added protection. Last night wasn’t about you.”

I suspected that but I don’t want to come off as cocky and say it out loud. Instead, I nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Actually, it kind of was about you,” she amends and I give her a curious look. “I’ve never felt comfortable going without a condom with someone… until you.”

I can’t stop the grin that stretches across my face. “That’s a really good fucking answer, Katie. I promise you I’m safe. Haven’t been with anyone for months, had my regular physical checkup after her and was tested to be sure.”

“I trust you,” she says.

Three simple words yet they’re everything. Why do all the good phrases come in threes?

I reach between us and line myself up, slip inside her, and discover what paradise feels like. Johnny Cash once had a quote about what his version of paradise was. He compared it to having coffee that morning with her. Her meaning, June. For the first time since I read that quote, I understand it.

Last night at dinner with her.

Watching TV with her.

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