Page 59 of Riding the Pine

Boyfriend.

I’ve changed my clothes three times so far. Like I said, pathetic. He’s seen me lounging around in yoga pants, unkempt hair, and no make-up, and it’s never been an issue. In fact, I’ve never given it a second thought. And yet, here we are, me waiting for him to return from abroad, and worried about what I look like when he sees me.

“Hey, Bright Eyes.” His voice fills the room from behind me. I recently gave him a key for emergencies, but this, letting himself in after a trip across the world, it’s different. It’smore.

Before I even acknowledge his existence, I tell Savannah I’m busy, because no matter how much I want to get railed by Scott Raine, no matter how excited I am to see him, my rule is, and will always be, chicks before dicks. And if he has a problem with that then I’m not the right woman for him.

I tuck my phone into my back pocket and turn to face the man who took my heart to Ireland. “You let yourself into my apartment.” I can’t even pretend to keep a straight face, his lopsided smile is infectious, and the energy radiating from him tickles me from across the room.

“I did.” He drops his bag and takes a step toward me. “Problem?” He raises his brows.

I shake my head. “You came straight here.” I gesture at the duffel on the floor.

“I did,” he repeats, taking another step closer. The air gets thicker, his eyes flicker. “Problem?”

Another shake of my head. “I figured you’d want a shower.” I’m leading him, we both know what I want him to say, and I don’t care that I sound needy.

“I wanted to see you more.” Another step in my direction, he opens his arms to me, and I charge the six feet toward him and launch myself onto him like a spider monkey, or a koala, or something else that closes their body around something and makes it impossibly hard for them to escape.

His strong arms band around my back as I hug him tightly. “I missed you, Gizmo.” I drop a chaste kiss on his cheek before burrowing my head into the space where his shoulder and neck meet. “I’m glad you came here first.”

“Maybe I could shower here?”

“Maybe we could shower together?”

He’s already striding toward my main bathroom before I finish my sentence, with me still attached to his chest. When I slide down his body, I get momentarily stuck on his very happy-to-see-me cock. I give it a pat. “Soon, my friend.”

A feral noise comes from him as he wiggles his pants and underwear down his legs. The tip of his dick is already glistening. The way he drops his shirt on the floor and stands naked in front of me throws me back to the night he got drunk and told me he loved me. Do I mention it?

Before I can answer my own question, he cups my face with both hands and kisses me deeply. It’s not an animalistic kiss, it’s not demanding, or aggressive, it’s possessive, it’s enthralling, burning and so full of love. When his thumbs brush my cheekbones, I shiver, and despite him not having any clothes on for me to grab, I claw at his body to get him closer to me.

He pulls back. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I know, gimme a sec.” I hold up a hand, like if he comes closer my breathlessness may get worse. “I need you to know something.”

His face and shoulders fall.

“It’s nothing bad.” I kiss him again as I scoot my pants to the floor. I shouldn’t have worried about what I wore since it lasted less than five minutes on my body. I shake my head.

“What?” He tilts his head, still clearly concerned about what I have to say. He toes at the pile of clothes on my plush, cream carpet, looking over my shoulder to the floor length mirror behind me. “Also, your ass looks fantastic.”

I laugh. “I was just thinking that I spent so much time trying to pick something to wear for you coming over.” I gesture at the pants on the floor. “Seems I shouldn’t have bothered.”

Something comes into his features I can’t place as he cups my face. “You never have to pick something to wear for me, Bright Eyes.”

“I wanted to look nice for you.” I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable by his attention.

“You always look nice, for you. You could wear a trash bag with holes cut out for arms, and you’d still be the most beautiful person on the planet. What were you going to say?”

I toe at the pile of clothes on the ground again. “This reminds me of the night you got drunk and stripped off in front of me in your room.”

He groans, instantly turning a dark shade of red that’s quite adorable. “Can we not?”

“We must.”

Another pained sound comes from him, I’m not sure if it’s because of his embarrassment, or because he’s still hard as fucking diamond and wants to get me fully naked and into the shower.

“You told me you loved me that night.”

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