Page 35 of Loved Out Loud
“I—” I clear my throat. “Is that something you do?”
“Not specifically, but I have bottomed before.” He lies back, resting his head on his palms. The position pulls his shirt up, exposing the muscle and inked skin of his abs. A sexy smattering of dark hair trails beneath his shorts.
By the time I pull my attention away and look up at his face, I find him watching me. He pulls one of his hands out from under his head and grabs my foot. A mischievous smile playing upon his lips.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a foot massage.” His fingers press into my arch, and I groan at how good it feels. My shoulders relax back into the pillows at my back. His hands are so strong as they knead the bottom of my foot.
“I should tell you to stop, but it feels too good.” I close my laptop and set it aside.
“Why would you want me to stop when it’s so good you’re melting into the pillows?”
“It can’t be good for your hands. Shouldn’t you rest them or something?”
“It’s fine. My hands have been working overtime the past few days.”
My eyes fly open and meet his. Tension thickens the air until he bursts out laughing. The sound is so full and rich. My stomach flips in the same way it does on a roller coaster. I’m so fucked because all I want is to hear it on repeat for the rest of my life.
He sits up and grabs my other foot. I moan shamelessly when he finds the spot that aches and presses his thumb hard against it.
“This foot rub is better than sex.”
“Nothing is better than sex.” He applies the perfect amount of pressure to the same spot again. “Although hearing you moan like that is a close second.”
My toes curl when he picks up my first foot and finds the same spot, giving it just as much attention. “Do you want one in return?”
Mischief glints in his eyes once more. “I have a better idea.” He grabs a foot in each hand and slowly pulls them toward his crotch.
I pull my feet back as we both start laughing. His eyes crinkle in the corners as his chest shakes with laughter. It feels so good to laugh and be silly with someone. I can’t believe who it’s with, but it just feels so natural. Like we’ve been doing this for years.
We’re both quiet as we catch our breaths. A silence as easy as the laughter settles between us until I yawn. He stands up from the bed and walks over to his guitar. He grabs it by the neck and slips his notebook into his pocket.
“We should probably both get some sleep,” he says as he walks toward the door.
I stand up and follow him. “Especially you.”
“Come to my room for Pilates in the morning.” He opens the door but doesn’t go through it.
“What time?”
“Ten.”
“If I’m not writing, I’ll be there.”
He smiles, and my brain has left the building. Then he does something so shocking I would never have been prepared for it. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, holding me in a hug that goes on just a little bit too long. I don’t break the hold until he does, feeling somehow that he needs this even more than I do.
“Lock the door, little Archer. I want to hear the deadbolt turn before I walk away.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply with a little more sass than necessary. I yelp when he pinches my waist and then laugh. “Good night, Stone.”
“Sweet dreams, Hazel.”
I peek out the peephole and find him looking at the door, waiting just like he said he would be. Without taking my eyes off him, I reach over and flip the deadbolt locked. I watch him smile to himself and walk away.
What the hell happened tonight? I drift asleep attempting to convince myself that everything was just friendly. That I didn’t feel the heat between us multiple times. Because there’s no way he’s flirting with me.
The scent of amber and sin hits before I hear him.
