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In one fluid motion, he stands and makes his way towards the bathroom door, which I’m currently blocking. I didn’t realize I had stopped walking. His hand tilts my chin up so he can kiss me for a few moments. It’s easy and natural with him. That maybe this, us being together, even here in this house, could simply happen.
A voice in my head tries to ring alarm bells that the idea of living in this house, however large and soundproofed, might be too much. Instead of panicking and getting comically ahead of myself, I let my tongue meet Tommy’s and my arms drape around his neck. Thankfully, the towel stays firmly in place the whole time.
We slow things down before he convinces me to get back into the shower with him. Not that I wouldn’t mind showering with Tommy Landen, but my body is asking me to not go for round four just now. The nap only offset one or two of those orgasms.
Chapter 42: Tommy
Walking out of the steam-filled bathroom to the sight of Samantha Davies gently towel drying her hair at the foot of my bed does absolutely nothing to make me want to take things at that slow pace I originally intended. I don’t blame myself because, damn, if there’s a chance this is what she wants long-term, I’m all fucking in.
Without being awkward, hopefully, I kiss the side of her neck that’s exposed since her hair is tossed to one side to scrunch and grab clothes from my dresser. Of course I didn’t even think to bring them into the bathroom with me and I don’t want her to feel like I’m flashing her, so I pull up my boxer briefs under the towel I wrapped around my waist. The worst thing I could do right now is scare her off by being too comfortable.
Well, that’s not true at all, my brain corrects. I shake my head because there’s no way in hell I’d ever pull the kind of shit Maisy did. And even though I might be falling fast, I genuinely believe Sam wouldn’t either.
“Everything okay over there?” she asks, a little worry creeping into her expression.
I take a breath and see what’s standing right in front of me, letting those doubts that were so automatic the past year melt away. “It is now,” I answer truthfully, closing the distance between us so I can wrap my arms around her. We’ll talk about our exes soon enough, I can already tell that hers have left their own mark, too. But for now, I can simply be in the moment with this woman.
She drops her towel to the ground and holds me close, just standing here with her head resting against my bare shoulder.
“You smell like my bodywash and shampoo,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “I like that, even though your perfume drives me wild.”
“Maybe I’ll leave my travel bottle here for the next time I use your things so they can mix.” She smiles up at me and gives my neck a quick kiss, her hands tightening their grip behind my back to keep me against her.
“You can leave your entire collection here if it means I get to see you more.”
Sam bites her bottom lip and blushes but keeps her eyes on me instead of hiding. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“Good, because there’s more than enough space for you,” I say, pushing down all the ways my brain is trying to tell me I’m being an idiot for practically asking my girlfriend to move in with me.
And then it hits me: Samantha Davies is my girlfriend.
I think.
At least, she said she was okay with us being official. Well, “a thing” if I remember correctly.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Where’d you go just now?”
Instead of taking the easy way out and making some excuse, I think of each time I’ve asked her to be brave and open with me. To not hide.
“I was just trying to figure out if you’re officially my girlfriend or if I need to ask.”
She has a shy smile while her eyes sparkle when she says, “You can ask right now if you’d like.”
I stand here in my bedroom wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a damp towel and ask, “Samantha Davies, will you officially be my girlfriend?”
“Yep,” she replies, her smile growing until her nose scrunches. “Thomas Landen, will you officially be my boyfriend?”
The air whooshes out of me hearing her say my name and boyfriend together. Once I get oxygen back in my lungs, I lean down and right before I kiss her, I whisper, “Hell yeah.”
“How many committees are you on now?” Matt asks, his apron was tied neatly in a bow behind his back rather than a tiny knot in front.
“How did you manage that?” I point at the tidy bow.
He grunts, taking after Jax and Bryant even more today than usual. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Neither did you.”
“I tied it,” Caleb says, keeping his back to us while wrapping herbs in cheesecloth for Matt’s broth. His ears turn pink at the top and when I look over at Matt, he turns so I can’t make eye contact with him. Now I’m curious about more than a bow…but these two have had some odd moments lately, and I don’t want to push them.
