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Seeing his lips slightly parted, I fought the urge to push forward and kiss them. Instead, I wanted to take a good look at the man who'd become such an intimate partner.
He had a small scar just below his left collarbone. That was something I could ask about later, a conversation starter. His eyelashes were long. They fanned out on his cheeks in a way that would make most women envious.
As I looked lower, I stared at the dark trail that began at his navel and disappeared beneath the sheet. My cock stirred as it brought back memories. I remembered the slight taste of salt on the back his neck and the way he called out my name when the orgasm hit.
Lost in recalling the night before, I didn't notice Ronan starting to wake until he laughed softly. "Do you see something you like?"
I gazed into his twinkling eyes while the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "Maybe a thing or two."
Ronan reached out toward me and ran his index finger down the side of my face to my jawline. His touch set off shivers in my body. "Good morning."
"Morning." I suddenly felt at a loss of what to do. How exactly did you navigate the "morning after" with a man. The few times I spent the night with women, I rushed to the bathroom to take care of necessities and brushed my teeth before she woke up. It was too late for that with Ronan.
He seemed to sense the questions rattling my mind. He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my lower lip, slightly edging the tip into my mouth. "Sleep well?"
I sucked lightly on the thumb before I moved closer. "The best I've slept in a long, long time." It was true, and it surprised me.
His hand drifted down to my shoulder, and he grabbed it, using it as leverage to pull our bodies together tightly. He kissed me, morning breath be damned, in a way that started soft and sweet but quickly grew more passionate.
Ronan's hand slid down between us to my hip, and he dug his fingers lightly into the flesh. He was half-hard pressed against me. I moaned and pushed a thigh between his legs.
After a few more seconds of passionate kissing, we broke apart, gasping for breath. Ronan's pupils were slightly dilated with desire. We each stared, contemplating what should happen next.
Finally, Ronan sighed and rubbed his beard. "As much as I'd love to spend the entire day here in bed with you, I think it's time we looked at the journal—together."
He was right. I nodded. Reluctantly, we both rolled out of bed, leaving our warm cocoon. The carpet was soft beneath my feet, and I reached for the ceiling, stretching out my slightly sore body.
Ronan watched me. His gaze roamed up and down from head to toe. The intense concentration caused me to blush, but I resisted the urge to pull something over my body and cover myself. It was thrilling to have someone look at me that way.
In a playful voice, I echoed his question from earlier. "Like what you see?"
His lips curved into a wicked smile. "Very very much, But first, let's find you something to wear. As much as I enjoy the view, I'm not sure I can focus on any mysteries with you sitting there in all your naked glory.""
I looked around the room for my clothes from the night before. I found them scattered around, a rough trail leading from the door to the bed. We were in a hurry and discarded pieces of clothing wherever they landed.
"Would you happen to have a spare shirt? Mine's a little bit… wrinkled."
Ronan chuckled. "I might have a perfect solution." He walked over to the dresser and rummaged through one of the drawers. After he pulled out a folded T-shirt, he shook it out, and it revealed a touristy Golden Gate bridge design.
"It's clean." He tossed it toward me. "I bought it one time on my way through the airport. I liked the image, and it's good to wear to the gym."
I caught the shirt and then started to pull it over my head. It was snug, significantly tighter than clothes I usually wore. The fabric clung tightly to my chest and biceps.
Looking at Ronan, I asked, "Is it too tight? I can just wear my shirt from last night and then change at home if—"
"No, honestly, it looks fantastic on you. I'm not sure I'll be able to look away, but you do still look better with no clothes at all."
My skin tingled under the intensity of his gaze. "I guess that means you really did like what you saw."
Ronan stepped up close to me. He gripped my hips and pulled me to him. He ran one hand over the tight cotton fabric. "The way this shirt shows off your muscles is a good look. It's not for the shy, but it's very good. Plenty of people will be looking at you with admiring glances."
I flexed playfully. "Finally, all those years of baseball practice pay off. Who would have guessed?"
Ronan retrieved the journal from a leather messenger bag, and we settled onto the room's plush loveseat, our thighs touching as we moved close. The journal was substantial, bound in rich, dark leather. As Ronan placed it in my lap, I could almost feel the weight of its secrets pressing against my skin.
"Ready to explore some adventures?"
I nodded and carefully opened the cover. The old leather creaked slightly, and I immediately smelled the scent of old, fragile paper. Page after page was full of elegant writing. The penmanship was perfect, slightly ornamented, and surprisingly easy to read.
