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“Carrie.”
I blink to the sound of my name and an awareness of Reid behind me washes over me, his big body wrapped around mine, his lips at my ear. “You awake, baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Not even close,” he says, nuzzling my neck, his lips near my ear as he softly orders, “Look out the window.”
I blink again and bring the window into view, my lips parting with the sight of a golden sunrise lifting the darkness from the sky. “It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“How’s that for your awkward morning after?” he asks, his hand flattening on my belly.
“It depends on what comes next,” I say, rolling over to face him, my hand settling on his jaw, the dark blond of morning stubble rasping my palm. “We kind of blew your plans to stay up all night. We never made it off the couch.”
He catches my hand and kisses it. “Then we can try again tonight.”
“You want me to stay again tonight?”
“Yes,” he says. “I do. And let me give you some incentive.” He rolls me onto my back and the next thing I know, he’s spreading my legs, settling between them, and his mouth is on my belly. “I want to add a little something to your awkward morning after.” His lips curve and he slides lower, settling his shoulders between my thighs and then he licks my clit.
I suck in air as sensations spiral through me, my hips arching toward his mouth. He licks me again and my sex clenches with how badly I want him inside me. “Reid,” I whisper, intending to tell him just that, but his mouth closes down on that oh so intimate part of me and I forget everything but what he is doing to me. He suckles and licks, his fingers stroking my sex, pressing inside me and I am on edge that quickly. I can’t help it. He seems to naturally know my body, and I’m at the arousing disadvantage of an overwhelming erotic and somehow romantic experience, of being woken up to Reid Maxwell’s mouth on my body with a sunrise as a backdrop. Already the build to that sweet blissful place is upon me and there really is no climb to the top. I’m just there. My body clenches around his fingers and then I’m spasming, my entire body trembling with release. It’s hard and fast and I melt into the cushion, a complete limp noodle.
“My God,” I whisper, looking down at him, expecting him to come to me, but he does not.
He kisses my belly again and stays where he’s at. “That’s how I’ll wake you up in the morning if you stay again. I promise.”
I raise up on my elbows and study him, wondering if he realizes that he’s a very generous, selfless lover. Actually, he’s generous in many ways, a contradiction to the hard-ass that he shows the world. But not me. He’s let me see beneath his stone exterior and I’ve never wanted to know him more. “I’ll stay,” I say, “but tomorrow morning, it’s my turn to wake you up properly and I will. I promise.”
His eyes light in a way they rarely light. “Is that right?”
“Yes, but we can practice tonight to make sure I get it just right. Or now. We could practice now.”
That’s all it takes and he’s on top of me. “Not now. This now.” His mouth is on mine, his cock pressing between my thighs, and then inside me. And there is no kink or play or teasing to this. It’s need. His. Mine. So much need. We are fast and hard, him thrusting, and me arching into each movement he makes. It’s wild and hot and like my orgasm, too fast. We shatter together and he is pure raw male perfection as he reaches beneath me, cups my backside and lets out a low, guttural moan as he shudders into his own release. He relaxes into me as I sink into the cushion, but we are only there for moments before he rolls us to our sides, facing each other.
“You, woman,” he growls.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a synonym for ‘I wish the fuck I knew.’ Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and then looks at me. “I’m not the guy you marry and have kids with. You know that, right?”
“I’m not the girl that wants those things. Why are you even saying this to me?”
“I’m not my father. I’m not, but I am hard, cold. I’m brutal, even. I’m not the man for you.”
“O—kay.” A knot twists in my gut. “So much for avoiding the awkward morning after.” I try to pull away.
He snags my leg with his leg, his hand settling on my waist. “I’m not the man for you, but I can’t seem to care. I can’t and I should.” Relief washes over me as he adds, “I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to stop touching you. I don’t want to share you.”
He doesn’t want to share me? I don’t want to share him, either. “Then don’t,” I whisper.
“I’m not,” he says. “That’s what I’m telling you. I’m not sharing you. I’m not walking away, but you should. You should, Carrie, and—”
I lean in and press my lips to his. “I’m not and I should. I get it. You’ve warned me. I’ve warned me, but I don’t break easily.”
“One day you’ll hate me all over again. It’s not what I want but it will happen. Remember this moment. Remember that it’s not what I want.”
“We’ve already been at hate, Reid. That’s not where we’re at.”
“Not now,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine and kissing my knuckles before he seems ready to move on. Like he’s said all he can say. “Let’s go shower.”
