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He squeezed me closer and pressed a kiss to my temple, letting out a small groan. “It was worth a shot.”
He had no idea how tempted I was to take him up on that offer. But I fought against breaking the rules to spend more time with him. My feelings were growing at an astronomical and possibly non-healthy pace. I remembered the old adage by Shakespeare himself:violent delights have violent ends.
That familiar tremor of trepidation skittered across my subconscious, but I pushed it away. I didn’t want this to go too fast and burn out too soon. I wanted to enjoy this as long as possible.
Of course, it was hard to go slow after I knew what his tongue felt like inside me. And his perfect dick. And the way he ground into me at the end of each thrust.
Shakira was right.Hips don’t lie.Bennett sure knew how to use his.
“Did you take dance lessons when you were younger?”
He was still hugging me, fully dressed while I was completely naked, his big hand sliding softly up and down my back. I was seriously getting turned on by his gentle strokes.
“What?” He chuckled. “Why would you ask that?”
My hands fell from his waist to his ass, where I gave him a good squeeze. “You’ve got some loose hips in bed.”
Then his own hands fell tomyass. “We don’t have to use the bed.” His lighthearted veneer had completely vanished. I was looking at his devilish demeanor that promised skin-tingling, bone-melting orgasms.
My phone alarm went off, which I had set for every weekday to remind me to get out of bed and get my butt to work. I made a whiney groan.
He smiled and dipped his head to my neck, sliding his hands to my hips again. “There’s always tonight,” he promised. “Go get a shower.”
Then he popped my behind and walked toward the door.
“Hey!” I rubbed my butt cheek while walking to the bathroom. “You did enough of that last night.”
“You loved it,” he said in that low rumble, grinning as he walked away.
Yeah, I did.
I sauntered into the bathroom and gasped at the state of my hair and the hickey on the curve of my neck and shoulder. “Damn, Bennett.”
Needing to get a move on, I jumped in the shower and used his men’s shampoo. Ooo, this was where the woodsy smell came from. After rinsing off, I stepped out and wrapped a fluffy towel around myself, tucking it at my breasts. Then wrapped another around my hair. Even his towels were soft and smelled good. They even matched.
I snort-laughed. He would probably run screaming from my nightmare of a laundry room. While he was neat, I found that he wasn’t obsessively so. There were some gym shoes scattered around. A little clutter on his nightstand and dresser.
Smiling at the old-fashioned straight razor kit on the counter, I picked up the fancy brush and grazed the soft bristles over my chin.
Feeling extra nosy, I opened his medicine cabinet, finding some mint mouthwash and Advil and…a prescription bottle.
Frowning, I started to close the door but stopped.
“Shit,” I muttered, trying to make myself close it all the way. But Icouldn’t.
When I picked up the scrip bottle, I immediately felt guilty for snooping. I knew exactly what sertraline was—Zoloft—and what it was used for. Finn’s therapist had prescribed it for him when he was going through a darker period at the beginning of college when he came out and was figuring out what to do with his life.
He no longer needed the medicine on a regular basis, but I wondered if this was something Bennett needed all the time. Not that I cared if he did. I was just surprised, and now felt a ton of regret for snooping into something private that he might not be ready to share.
Before I could be any nosier, I put it back and shut the cabinet. Quickly dressing in what I wore last night—minus the panties, because gross, I’d rather go commando—I towel-dried my hair, ran a brush through it, then headed into the kitchen.
“Something smells good.”
“Hope you like French toast,” he said, placing a plate with a fluffy stack in front of me, dusted with powdered sugar and a drizzle of syrup.
“Damn, Broussard.” I sat down and forked in a delicious mouthful. “Someone’s really trying hard to impress me.”
He freshened up my coffee and set the creamer on the table next to my cup.
