Waking up with her.
All of it. Every moment.
Paradise.
I try to go slow, but sliding in and out of her with no barrier, nothing between us, feels so damn good that I begin speeding up, thrusting into her as her legs wrap around my thighs and her hands run over me. Her short nails scratch down my back, landing on my ass where she squeezes.
Her moans fill my bedroom.
My grunts answer her moans.
Paradise.
Every thrust. Every drive into her.
I feel the telltale tightening and know I won’t last much longer and want to curse but damn it is amazing being with her this way. Our bodies seem to mold together as if they were created for the other.
“I never come in the morning,” she whispers.
Is that a challenge? If so, challenge accepted.
I lift her leg, prop it on my shoulder, and then repeat with the other leg.
Sweat is forming on my forehead and my heartbeat is pounding harder than it’s ever pounded before.
I’ve learned her signs already and the noises she’s making, I know she’s getting close.
“Brody,” she cries out and it spurs me on, driving me to go faster, harder, deeper.
Her legs clench around me, she spasms against my hardness and that’s the sign. That’s it. She’s about to come and I’m about to follow right along with her.
We come together with a shout and each other’s names on our lips. I collapse onto her, careful to keep the bulk of my weight off her.
“Paradise,” I whisper, our chests pressed together, both of us breathing heavy.
“Paradise,” she replies.
I rise up to look at her, curiously.
“You have a picture of Johnny Cash in your house and in your office. I did some research on him. ‘This morning. With her. Having coffee.’ His version of paradise.”
Emotion clogs my throat knowing that she recognized. “Yes.”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna get cleaned up?” I ask her and she nods.
I move off her and she shimmies out of bed then quickly makes her way to the bathroom. Once she’s finished, I take my turn but stop her from passing me by. Kissing her, I murmur once again, “Paradise.”
“Definitely,” she agrees. “Coffee will make it even better.”
“Definitely,” I repeat her word.
She grins, rises up on her toes, and kisses me then brushes past me. “I’ll get it started.”
When I get to the kitchen, we work together making scrambled eggs on a hot plate that I’ve been using since I currently don’t have an oven or stove. We’re sitting at the table eating our breakfast when I hear Chad’s truck pull into the driveway. Katie’s eyes dart to the door. “Chad,” I explain with a grin.
“How do you know that?”