Page 98 of Conflict
Relief washes over me. “Shane, he’s all bluster. I’m not worried about him and you shouldn’t be, either.”
“Promise me, Alyssa. If he ever approaches you again, you will tell me and you will let me deal with it the way I see fit.”
“I promise I’ll tell you, Shane. I’ll never keep anything from you. But I won’t promise to let you fly off the handle to take care of it. I’m an adult and I’m fully capable of standing up for myself.”
He drops his forehead to mine, his eyes searching. “I just… God, Alyssa, I’m fucking falling for you and I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Did violins just start playing in the background? I swear, I hear music as my heart swells, and I can’t help the shit-eating grin I’m suddenly sporting. “You…you are?”
He blows out a breath. “Oh, yeah. It’s like a runaway train. I can’t hit the brakes and I don’t even want to. I just don’t want to fucking crash and burn.”
My hand comes to his cheek, and I stare up into soul-penetrating eyes. “It’s okay if you do, Shane. As long as you do it crashing into me.”
The morning after my parents’ anniversary party, I wake slowly, groggy from too much champagne followed by an enthusiastic round of tipsy sex. I don’t want to get out of bed, especially since Alyssa’s currently snuggled up against me. We’re both on our sides, in the spooning position. I get where that term comes from, but considering that her panty-covered ass is pressed against the thin material of my boxer shorts, it should probably be called something more like “primed and ready for fucking” position. But I supposed that’s a mouthful.
We’ve been waking together for a couple of months now. First, we only spent our weekends together. Then the weekends started gradually turning to Thursday-Monday, and now we’re at the point where we spend four or five nights a week at my place. Not that there’s anything wrong with her condo, except for the whole roommate thing.
Despite my initial hesitation, Bryan’s a pretty cool guy. Phenomenal cook—something we were surprised to have in common—but he has shitty taste in sports teams. But hey, it makes for lively weekends, and I know it pleases Alyssa for us to get along.
So, even though we’ve done this dozens of times now, I still can’t help but be amazed at just how much I love sharing my bed with her. Before her, I’d never done the whole morning-after thing. With her? It’s not even an option not to anymore.
There’s just something so intimate about waking up next to someone you care about. The curve of her ass pressed into me. The feel of soft, bare skin as her legs tangle in mine. The way my hand can splay across her belly then drift up and caress her breasts without a moment’s notice. I’m a sucker for the curve of her neck when it’s bare to me and practically begging for attention. Hell, I don’t even mind her crazy, long hair intruding into my space. I just want her here, with me, every single morning.
Folgers got it wrong.
The best part of waking up is the woman of your dreams in your arms.
Okay, so it doesn’t rhyme, but the sentiment is so much better than their jingle.
Alyssa stirs, one of her legs moving down, her skin sliding against my own. I can’t help myself. The hand currently resting on her bare stomach glides down, my fingers slipping beneath her panties and finding her already soaking wet. She pushes her ass back into my cock, moaning as I stroke her in a lazy fashion. My mouth finds the curve of her neck, and she shivers as my breath caresses her skin. I barely have to touch her and she’s already writhing. Her hand comes up behind her and holds on to the back of my head just as I sink one finger into her tight depths. My thumb and my finger work in perfect unison, working her over both inside and out until she’s trembling and crying out in pleasure.
I have no idea how long we stay like that. I’m not sure I give a damn.
Finally, she turns to face me. “Good morning,” she whispers, her eyes hooded. She brings a hand up to cup my cheek then presses soft lips to mine. Before I can say a word, her eyes light up with desire. “My turn.”
Just as I’m about to tell her she doesn’t have to reciprocate, Alyssa slides down the sheets and under the covers. And when she takes me into her mouth, I lose all sense of thought.
Last night, I said I was falling for her.
Pretty sure I’ve just been tipped over the edge.
