Page 91 of Dial L for Lawyer
CHAPTER 23
Caleb
Iwake up to Serena pressed against me, her hair a dark cloud across my pillow, one leg thrown over mine like she's claiming territory even in sleep.
This. This is what I want every morning for the rest of my life.
It’s Friday morning, and she's wearing my Harvard shirt again, claimed it as her nightgown, and it's ridden up to show the curve of her hip. I trail my fingers along her exposed skin, feeling her stir against me.
"Mmm. What time is it?"
"Early. Six-thirty."
"Why are you awake?" She burrows deeper into my chest, her breath warm against my skin.
"Because you're in my bed." I kiss her temple. "Hard to sleep when all I want to do is touch you."
She looks up at me, eyes still heavy with sleep. "That's either romantic or creepy."
"Both?"
"Probably both." She stretches, the shirt riding up further, and what little control I had snaps like a rubber band.
I roll her beneath me, kissing her properly awake. She responds immediately, arms winding around my neck, legs parting to cradle me, and soon we're moving together, slow and sweet and perfect.
She moans, pressing her heels against my ass, urging me deeper. There's a moment—a perfect, crystalline pause—where it's just us, bodies wound together, breathing the same air, existing in the space between heartbeats. We move so slowly it's dreamlike, like we're afraid to break the spell of morning or this fragile thing growing between us. Each thrust is a promise, each kiss an apology. By the time she comes, pulsing around me with my name on her lips, the sun is painting golden stripes across the sheets. My own release crashes through me, leaving me shaking and certain of one thing.
She's it. Not just the prize, not just the game. She's the entire fucking point. The reason to play. I'm ruined for anyone else, completely wrecked by this woman. It feels brand new and like it always existed, like I've always been heading toward her and everything before was just killing time.
She's asleep again before I can catch my breath. Mouth parted, one soft snore every fourth breath. Perfect.
I ease out of bed, careful not to wake her, and pull on sweats before heading to the kitchen. My phone's already lit up with messages.
Bennett:
Let me know when you're headed in. Logan has info.
I make a cup of coffee, resisting the urge to make a second and bring it back for Serena.
A few minutes pass. I'm scrolling through emails, half-dreading the meeting with Logan and Bennett this morning,when Serena steps into the kitchen. She's barefoot, blinking in the soft white light, my t-shirt hitting her just above the knees. There's something reckless about her, the way her hair is yanked into a lopsided bun, the absence of makeup and any type of constrictive clothing. She looks at me for one long, uncertain heartbeat, and I don’t know if she's expecting the world to tilt, or for me to flinch.
Instead, I just smile, raise my mug in a silent toast. She hesitates, scans the room for those trapdoors, then crosses the floor like she's taking her first steps in a new country. She slides onto the stool beside me, knees drawn up, arms folded in a makeshift hug.
I hit the button on the coffee maker, and once her mug is filled, I slide it across the marble. "You didn't want to sleep in?"
"No. I wanted to get up with you. Have breakfast together. If that's OK." She picks up her mug and uses it as a shield for her lips. Her hands are trembling slightly, but she doesn't spill a drop.
"OK?" I echo, waiting for her to elaborate.
Serena looks at me sideways, the edges of her mouth fighting back a smile. "I'm not used to waking up in someone's bed and not immediately sneaking out before daylight. Feels wrong to just... be here as much as I am. I’ve barely been home since Wednesday."
"You know you don't have to leave." I reach over, tracing the faint reddening on her chin where my morning stubble grazed her skin. "I'd chain you to the headboard if I thought you'd tolerate it."
She snorts, wiping her nose on her wrist, lingering somewhere between bashful and bold. "I believe you. But I'm also not the chainable type."
"Lucky for you, I'm very, very patient." I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her stool closer to mine. "What do you want for breakfast?"
She stares into her coffee for a minute, thinking. "What are you capable of cooking?"
