Page 82 of That Rush

“I wasn’t willing to risk waking you to investigate.”

The corner of her mouth lifts. “Very considerate.”

“I have my moments.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes.”

“Planning your escape?”

“Waiting to see what you want.”

The humor in her eyes softens. “I want coffee eventually.”

“I can make coffee.”

“That sounded dangerously domestic.”

“I know how to operate a machine.”

“I’ve seen your hiking preparations. You probably brought a backup coffeepot.”

“Only an extra filter.”

She laughs and settles her chin on my chest. “How thoughtful.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I hiked six miles and then made another questionable athletic decision.”

My hand moves over her hip. “Sore?”

“A little.” Her fingers trace the center of my chest. “Worth it.”

Hearing her say that makes it difficult to remember I meant to let her set the pace this morning.

“When do you need to leave?” she asks.

“When you want me to.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to.”

“Good.”

Paige leans up and kisses me, her mouth warm and unhurried. Her body is soft against mine beneath the quilt, and I keep my hand at her waist, waiting for her to decide where this goes.

She doesn’t hesitate.

Her palm slides down my stomach and closes around my cock.

My hips tense instantly. “Paige.”

“You’re very responsive in the morning.”

“You have your hand wrapped around my cock.”

“I’m aware.”