Page 44 of Reply All
For a moment, we don’t speak or move. Then, I feel Will’s large hands travel up and down my arms, skimming me with his fingertips, raising goosebumps on every inch of my body. He moves my hair to one side so he can press soft kisses to my neck and shoulder, and I never want him to stop.
Will anchors the condom and pulls out, making me whimper from the loss of him. With an arm around my waist, he rolls us on our sides and pulls me into him, condom discarded somewhere. On the floor? The table? I don’t really care.
When Will’s lips move to my ear, he whispers, “What now?”
I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the wall across the room, not wanting to speak—not even knowing if I physically can.
I feel Will nod against me before he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Okay. Okay. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” In what turns out to be typical Will fashion, he pulls me even tighter still into his chest, where I happily settle. In the comfort and safety of his arms, I fall asleep after just a few seconds.
WILL
Will can’t believe this is his life. He can’t believe he’s in Bridget’s bed, her arms wrapped around his neck, legs hooked over his hips like she needs to hold on to him even in her sleep as she drools all over his bare chest.
Tonight was perfect. Tonight was everything he’d ever hoped for and more.
As he runs his fingers through her soft, flaming red hair, he smiles, thinking over every single event that led to this moment in time. There are many things that Will has done throughout his life that he wishes he could take back. His mother’s accident, specifically, which led to a series of unfortunate consequences he will have to live with forever. Since the crash, he’s sworn he would give up anything if it meant it would make his mother walk again. And while he still means it, he can’t deny that something amazing came from it: he would never have met Bridget if it hadn’t been for it. After all, there was no way a sane Will Jacobs would ever have worked for Stevenson—taking on a job at this company was a clear sign of desperation for anyone who knew him—and it doesn’t seem like Bridget and Will had any friends in common. So would they have ever met otherwise? Would he have had to go on living his lonely life without her?
The thought is terrorizing and not something he wants to entertain for a second longer. Will just wants to close his eyes and enjoy this moment right here, the intimacy of it all, the pure peace he feels when he’s with her.
16
BFFS?
When I wake, it’s with great effort. At first, I keep my eyes closed as I try to process why the hell my body feels like I took a two hour intense hot yoga class the day before. I stretch my limbs to measure the full extent of my soreness and almost hiss. But while it hurts and I’d love to pass out again to sleep another hour or ten, it’s the kind of satisfying soreness that comes after doing something really,reallyfun. Like sex with an incredible man.
It’s delicious.
And it’s right then that I remember what happened, and my eyes fly open to double-check whether Will is in bed beside me or whether it was all just a dream. To my surprise, when I turn on my side, I find him asleep and naked, lying on his back, about an inch away from falling off my queen mattress. While the bed is certainly big enough for me, it appears we’reboththe sprawling kind of sleepers, making it nearly impossible to fit in the bed with room to spare. Not that I mind, if I’m being honest. Will smells incredible, his skin is soft yet hard, and his body heat is more than welcome on this cold, February morning. I really don’t hate having to share my bed’s real estate.
As if wanting to make things more difficult, Ginger hops on the foot of the bed, jostling the mattress. She looks between me and Will, her unwanted guest, with an annoyed look.
He took my spot. Am I supposed to share now?she seems to ask.
“We have a guest. Be nice,” I whisper back to her.
It’s been so long since a man has been in bed with me, I wouldn’t be surprised if she forgot about the existence of other humans. It’s not like I bring many friends over here, either. Where would I even put them?
Eventually, Ginger settles at the foot of the bed, curling up into a big, fluffy ball by our feet, accepting that she’s been relegated. Meanwhile, I go back to staring at Will’s peaceful features as he sleeps. Except?—
“Is she mad at me for taking her spot or something?” he asks in a sleepy voice that has me grinning like a goof. Will’s eyes are closed, an adorable lazy smile attempting to spread across his face.
There’s officially no doubt in my mind that I’m going to want this every day from now on.
“You’re awake?”
He yawns and stretches a bit. “Yeah.”
“You heard that?”
His laugh is low, groggy. Will’s eyes are still closed, but he wraps an arm around my waist to bring me closer. “Yeah. But it’s not a surprise that you talk to your cat.” He doesn’t have any morning breath. How is that even possible?
I place my hand an inch away from my mouth as I speak, just in case I have some sort of fire breathing dragon level gnarly thing going on. “Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head in my neck before dipping it in my neck and inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with my scent. “You smell incredible. Like you and sex and me and shampoo.” His arms slink around my waist, evolve into two massive snakes I wouldn’t mind being constricted by. Once again, Will is predator, and I am hopelessly devoted prey.
Irritated by our bed takeover, Ginger gives up and heads back to her chair for her morning nap (the first of three). Will notices and laughs with me, muttering something about having to win over my jealous roommate.
My grin is wild, the butterflies in my stomach are in a frenzy, and if he pressed his ear to my chest, he’d hear the impossibly loud and fast tempo of my heart while my brain processes his words. Thank god he can’t see my face. Would he think I was crazy for the wild blush?
