Page 159 of The Lineman

He felt me.

Even in sleep, his body knew mine.

I let my fingers linger there, memorizing the curve, the dip where his thigh met his hip, the sheer strength in him.

Curiosity overrode caution, and I let my fingers dip between his cheeks. We were both still so slick, it was easy, like sliding on a glove. His hole twitched, then his body shivered.

I teased and circled, flicking the way he’d done to me.

He groaned and shifted his weight. If he turned over, I was sure he’d be hard as a rock.

I let my finger slip in, just a little.

He puckered around me.

“Feeling frisky?”

I yanked my hand back.

His body jolted.

“Easy there, you were inside me.”

I blushed. “Sorry, you startled me.”“Said the owner of the finger, not the ass.”

I chuckled softly and looked away.

His hand found my chin and turned me toward him.

“Hey, you.”

I blinked sleepily, a slow grin pulling at my lips. “Hey, you.”

Would that be a new thing of ours? Would that be how we greeted one another?

My heart thrilled at having “a thing.”

His voice was rough with sleep, his eyes bleary, and God, I wanted to kiss him.

So I did.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his, soft and slow, savoring the feel of him.

Elliot hummed, his hand sliding lazily up my arm, over my shoulder, pulling me closer.

“Morning,” he murmured against my mouth.

I chuckled. “Not quite, but close enough.”

He kissed me again, deeper this time, his fingers threading into my hair.

For a long moment, we just lay there, wrapped up in each other, trading lazy kisses, whispering soft words that didn’t really mean anything but felt important anyway.

I could have stayed like that forever.

But then—

Elliot sighed, pulling back slightly, his brow furrowing.

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