Page 30 of Not Your Average Vixen
“I don’t know if my legs will be able to keep me upright much longer,” she said with a sated sigh.
In all fairness, the intensity of his orgasm had taken a hell of a lot out of him, too.
“We can’t have you collapsing,” he replied.
Carefully, he pulled out of her, then removed the condom, and tossed it into a small trash bin. Then, before she could stop him, he scooped her into his arms.
“I didn’t mean that you had to pick me up, but I’m not complaining,” she said, resting her head in the crook of his neck as he brought her into the bedroom.
Gently, he laid her on the plush comforter, removed her boots, and covered her body with a blanket. “Are you hungry? We could order room service,” he offered, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager.
But she shook her head and reached for his hand, guiding him under the covers with her. She reclined onto her back as he rolled onto his side.
She brushed a dark curl from his forehead. “Would you think it was strange if I just looked at you?”
There it was again—that gentle, piercing honesty. He traced a line from her earlobe to the hollow of her neck.
“No, I don’t think it’s strange,” he answered, unable to look away, unable to take his eyes off of her.
She smiled up at him. Her expression welling with such tender gratitude, he wished he could bottle the moment and keep it with him, close to his heart.
She blinked, then pressed her hand to her mouth as a yawn escaped. Her eyes grew heavy as they watched each other in the glow of the city as she hovered on the verge of sleep. And then, after a heavy blink, her eyes remained closed, and he listened to the sound of her breath, slow and steady, like the tide coming in and going out in a rhythmic lullaby. He stroked her cheek, and her lips curved into a smile.
“I can feel you looking at me, Soren.”
Damn, he liked the way she said his name.
He twisted a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I thought you were asleep.”
She opened her eyes, and the breath caught in his throat. It was as if he’d spent a lifetime adrift, and she was his anchor. A woman he knew nothing about had pierced his heart with her soulful brown eyes and her delicate lilt of a sweet, sated smile.
She stroked his cheek. “What is it?”
But he couldn’t speak as Tom’s words echoed through his mind.
I wish you could understand what it’s like when you lock eyes with someone, and you know that your life will never be the same.
She frowned as worry flooded her mahogany gaze. “I should get back to my room.”
He should let her go. No woman had ever spent the night with him—just sleeping. He’d made damn sure to structure his life around no strings attached sex. He’d never had the desire to wake up next to anyone. Not until Bridget,not your average vixen,crashed into his orbit.
He shook his head. He’d give in to the ache—the empty part of him that wanted, no, needed her with him tonight.
“You should stay here,” he said, hardly able to believe he’d spoken the words.
“With you?” she pressed.
This wasn’t him. He wasn’t a sleepover, cuddle bug of a bastard. Once he’d gotten his fill, scratched that lustful itch, he was out the door without a backward glance. But this mystery woman was different. He’d felt it the moment he saw her. The honest hunger in her eyes. The unabashed need. The sincere, open desire. This one-night stand wasn’t her norm. She wasn’t like him.
She didn’t plow through lovers like a steam train.
He’d never met anyone like her.
“Soren?” she whispered.
There it was again—she said his name, and angels couldn’t have made the word sound sweeter.
He gathered her into his arms and tightened his grip on her body. “I want you to stay. I want you to fall asleep in my arms.”
