Page 64 of Let’s Be Real

“Good. I’ve been thinking about optimizing your bedroom all day.”

With a low growl, I scooped her up, and she wrapped her long legs around my waist. “No more talking, Samantha.”

She tucked her face against my neck. “’Kay.”

Samantha: Are you home?

Me: Five minutes away.

Samantha: I’m coming over. Be there in ten.

Me: I’ll be waiting.

This time, I didn’t bother trying to convince myself we weren’t going to do this anymore. There were still all the reasons why we shouldn’t have been fucking multiple times a week, and I didn’t give a damn about one of them. I liked how I felt when I was with her—and not just inside her. The whole time was like that alpine slide, and I was hooked on it.

Skin slick with sweat, lungs struggling to find air, I fell to the side, dragging Samantha with me. Her leg draped over mine, her cheek against my chest, our skin stuck together wherever it touched—and there weren’t many places it wasn’t.

I looked around the room, finally taking it in. Samantha’s bedroom was light and airy. Her bed was white iron with four posters. Gauzy curtains draped over the windows. Thick, fluffy bedding piled on the end of the bed. Her walls were a cool sage, and a few floral prints hung here and there.

“It’s really girlie in here.”

She snickered softly. “Well, I’m a girl. Did you forget?”

I smiled, cupping her breast. “Couldn’t possibly. Your bedroom just isn’t what I expected.”

We always met at my place—a habit we’d fallen into the last couple weeks. This afternoon, I was near Samantha’s neighborhood, and going home was the last thing I wanted. All it took was a text to receive an invitation, and now, here we were.

“Oh yeah?” She pushed up on her elbow so she could look down at me. “Tell me what kind of bedroom you thought I would have.”

“To tell the truth, I haven’t put a lot of thought into it.” I glanced around the room again. The crystal ring holder on her nightstand. Soft glow of her table lamp. The vanity neatly piled with makeup. Signs of the life she led. “You wear a lot of black. I thought that would extend to your living space. I suppose that was pretty foolish.”

“I’d say silly. I wear black to work because it blends in, but I have no interest in living in a bordello.” She gave my chest a light smack. “I can’t believe this is your first time in my bedroom.”

I cupped the back of her neck and drew her face down to mine. Her mouth landed on mine for a brief kiss before she drew back and rubbed the tips of our noses together.

“I had to invite myself over,” I said.

She laughed. “Well, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to do so. I kind of like having you here. You look good all sprawled out in my bed.”

I had to say, her bed was a lot more comfortable than mine. I wondered why I hadn’t cared enough to find a good mattress. She also had a lot more pillows, and her sheets were like silk beneath my bare skin.

“I like your bed. I think I might actually trust you to give my bedroom a makeover.”

Pulling back with a gasp, her mouth parted in an O. “Are you saying you didn’t trust me before? Were you humoring me?”

Mouth hitching, I held up my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”

That got me another chest swat. “You little shit. Well, now I’m not so sure I want to help you. Stick to your cardboard bed and scratchy sheets. See if I care.”

Laughing, I rolled us so she was flat on her back with me hovering over her. “Please, Samantha.” I ducked down to rub my face on her chest and neck, making her squeal. “Please, please help me.”

Her fingers gripped my hair, putting very little effort into pulling me away. “You don’t deserve it, Natey.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hmph. I really doubt it.”

Lifting my head, I caught her gaze. “Do I have to show you how sorry I am?”