Page 29 of Like Home
“Years. As long as I got to be by your side, I’d wait years, Summer. Though I might have to take a few cold showers a day. Especially if you keep wearing these jeans.” His hands glide down to grab my ass playfully while I laugh.
“You won’t have to wait years.Idon’t have the self-restraint to wait years. Just, not tonight, not yet. I need a second to wrap my brain around this.” I touch my face where his beard rasped against my skin, leaving it feeling overly warm and sensitive.
I expect him to be disappointed, maybe even upset despite his reassurances. Instead, he simply says, “Okay.” He pulls me in for a much less intense kiss, our lips brushing together. Then, he lightly kisses the tender skin around my mouth in an unspoken apology.
We cuddle and chat until I almost fall asleep in his lap. He gently sets me aside and stands, intending to head home. I’m not ready for him to leave yet and the thought of going to my empty bed alone is unappealing at best. “Stay a little longer?” I mumble sleepily.
He smiles at me, kisses me on the nose, and says, “I would love to.”
CHAPTER 20
Summer
The next morning, I wake a little confused when I notice Ryan’s solid arm thrown over my middle, and a leg wedged possessively between my own. Then I remember after a movie marathon in bed last night, I vowed to close my eyes for just a little bit. I guess we both fell asleep instead.
I lay there for a minute, just enjoying the feeling of sharing a bed with someone who wants to be next to me. Last night, after deciding to move our watch party to the bedroom, we both wanted to change out of our jeans. He had stripped down to his briefs and undershirt. I averted my gaze because I felt I had to show some restraint for us both after my whole “not tonight” speech. I threw on my own pajamas, a sexy but practical shorts and camisole set I had bought myself when Jared moved out, and it was his turn to look away. Especially when I slipped my bra off from under the camisole. I couldn’t help but notice his bobbing Adam's apple.
“Morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” Ryan’s gruff, barely-awake voice greets me as he squeezes me impossibly closer.
I shrug a little in his arms, “It’s okay. I fell asleep too.”
I feel the press of his hardness against me and despite my best intentions, I push back against it. He groans, squeezing me harder. “Summer.” There’s a warning in his voice.
“What? It’s not tonight anymore,” I say. A girl only has so much self-control after all. I hear his quick intake of breath as he reaches around and gently cups my breast, calloused thumb brushing over me through the silky pajama top. My own breath hitches and I press back against him again. His leg wedged between mine pushes up and exerts the sweetest pressure where I need it most. But it's not enough. I whimper and grab his hand, bringing it up under my top.
“Fuck, Summer,” he growls, before flipping me on my back and raising himself over me. My legs instantly fall open and he slots his hips into the welcome inlet of my thighs. He crashes his lips onto mine, the kiss rivaling our first last night. I snag his full bottom lip between my teeth and tug until he hisses in a breath.
He leans to the left, his other hand roaming under my shirt, lifting as he goes. I claw at his back, bunching his shirt in my hand, trying unsuccessfully to pull it off him. He laughs against my skin, lifting onto his knees so he can yank it off himself. He tosses it to the side and wow… Does he look edible. His stomach has the causal definition of a man who does manual labor most days, but isn’t a gym rat. I can’t help but bite my lip as I stare up at him.
“Top. Off,” he demands from between my legs, still on his knees. I pull it overhead, too turned on to be self-conscious about baring my soft belly with its faded stretch marks and boobs that are anything but picture-perfect to him for the first time. He exhales a strangled breath and presses a hand over my wildly thumping heart. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He says it so reverently, I believe him.
“Come here,” I say, pulling him down to me, kissing him softly, sensually. Our tongues glide, and his teeth graze my lips. Hesettles himself between my thighs again, the only thing separating us a few thin layers of fabric.
“You make me feel like a teenager. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed just kissing this much since high school.” Ryan presses against me firmly, driving home his point. I’m too lost in the sensation of our bare skin sliding together for words, so I let out a sound of agreement as I wrap my legs around his hips to bring him tighter against me.
He starts a slow, decadent descent down my body, kissing and licking as he goes. He looks up from under his dark lashes before he starts tugging at my shorts. I allow him to pull them down and kick them off to the side. Just when I think he’s going to rejoin me, his face returns to the line of my panties. “Okay?” he asks.
I nod, unabashedly wanting him to continue, insecurities be damned. As his mouth dips lower, I say, “Um. No one’s ever… So, I don’t know what I like.” I feel a blush color me from the chest up.
He winks and says, “Let’s find out together.” Then, the man licks. His. Lips. I think I might faint from being so turned on. Before I can second guess myself, he tugs my underwear aside, lowers his head and presses his tongue to me, wide and flat so I feel him everywhere. He is somehow both patient and ravenous. Responsive to my every sound and movement. Within minutes I’m trembling under him, an exquisite pressure building inside me.
Heat floods my core and my lower abdomen tightens, pleasure sparking along my spine. “Come for me, Summer,” he demands against my skin. I climb a little higher, and then with one final well placed press of his tongue, I do as he says, breaking into a million, glittering pieces. He gently kisses my inner thighs, replaces my underwear, and then climbs up the bed, laying his head next to mine. Smug male pride is written all over his face.
I go to my side and reach for him. Just as I pinch his waistband between my thumb and forefinger, intent on revealingmore of him to me, he places a large hand over mine, stalling it. “Today was for you. I have a feeling you haven’t had many days like that,” he says quietly. Because I can’t resist, I reach my hand lower and squeeze a little before letting go, enjoying the groan that leaves his wet, parted lips.
“I haven’t,” I agree, curling into his side. “I feel guilty leaving you hanging, though.” I trace a finger through the soft smattering of dark hair on his chest.
“Don’t. Just because today was for you doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself.” He kisses the top of my head.
After attempting to convince him to get in the shower with me, I begrudgingly shower alone. He clearly didn’t buy into my “save the environment” excuse and is determined to keep his word that today is for me. I emerge from the bathroom feeling more blissed out than I have in a long time.
I pad into the kitchen in a pair of lounge pants and a bralette. Ryan is the picture of domesticity, puttering around my kitchen, making us breakfast and coffee. He gestures for me to sit at the table where sunshine limns everything in gold, giving my many plants a healthy dose of light.
He comes over to me, plates and mugs in hand and I realize he gave me my favorite mug with the little suns. I have to wonder if it was just random chance or if he’s really paid that much attention. He sets mine down, kissing me on the temple before sitting across from me. The sun gilds the outline of his frame, and he looks so dreamy I almost pinch myself. I look down and see he’s made us breakfast sandwiches with bagels, eggs, and some bacon I had in the fridge.
“Thank you,” I say shyly, taking a sip of the coffee that he’s somehow made perfectly without direction. “I’m not used to being taken care of.” I take a large bite to stop myself from saying anything else. It means more than I can express that he’s taking care of me without prompting or nagging. He’s just doing it because he cares and he can.
He takes my hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb, “You’re welcome. I don’t mind at all. I actually like cooking, and breakfast is my favorite meal. It’s the only one you can have both savory and sweet as the main course, and no one bats an eye.”
