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There is no other choice. With my mind made up, I pack a light bag and head out. I need him, just once more. If I can get it out of my system tonight, get some sleep, I’ll have a clear head tomorrow and can think through my problem.
I don’t bother looking out the peephole of the front door as usual. So, when I open it to see Dean standing there, I nearly have a heart attack.
With my hand to my chest, I demand, “What the hell are you doing here?” I pull him in and close the door, swatting away as many mosquitos as possible.
“I couldn’t sleep. Cat, I didn’t like the way we left things. You have to know that I wouldn’t have tricked you. Lord knows I’ve fucked up plenty of relationships. But with you…I want to do things right. The last thing I’d want is to do something that would jeopardize that. Wait, where are you going?” he asks, pointing at the duffle bag.
“Um, I was coming to see you.”
“At two in the morning. Why?”
I swallow hard, and looking him directly in the eye, say, “I thought you could help me sleep…”
He’s on me before I can finish my sentence. The taste of his lips is on my tongue once again, the feel of his skin beneath my hands. And as he presses me against the wall and I feel that heat between my legs, I know this is no fantasy. The only work my hands will be doing for the rest of the night is making him sweat.
We make it to the bed, somehow, yanking off our clothes, desperate for that physical contact. When we’re finally lying naked, I guide him between my legs. He brings us together, binding us over and over again.
I’d told him I wanted him to help me sleep. But there are other physical needs that supersede sleep, and Dean is one of them.
The sun is pouring through the slants of the blinds by the time we do lay down, exhausted, dehydrated and depleted. Finally, I reached a level of satisfaction that will see me through the night. I hope.
Light footsteps wake me up to find Dean dressing. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I say, stretching. “Why’d you get up?”
“The snoring makes it hard to sleep,” he says with an impish grin.
My face burns, partly because I’m annoyed he brought it up, and partly embarrassment because I’ve been told I snore like a boar. “Sorry. It only happens when I’m very tired. You wore me out last night.”
He sits beside me, pulling down the sheet so my breasts are exposed. With the back of his hand he roams my skin freely. “So, am I allowed to call this a date?”
“Let’s call it a sleepover,” I say breathless.
“And tomorrow? What will we call it tomorrow?”
“Mm…” I tap my forefinger to my chin, thinking. “A placeholder.”
He raises a brow at that. “That’s not what I expected.”
Clearing my throat, I take his hand and move it to the bed. I can’t think while he’s touching me.
Doing my best adult impersonation, because deep down I’m struggling to understand why he wants a relationship with someone like me, and more than that, why I’m not putting an immediate end to it, I say, “Let’s take it one day at a time. We can get to know each other better. I’m tired of fighting it. When I win Key West, we will see where we stand. Then we can give it a name if there is anything left. But I don’t want anyone to know there’s something between us, Coop. There can’t be any question that I won this on my own.”
“No one would question your fight, kitty cat. When I win, everyone will know you gave it your all.” His eyes sparkle in that way they do when he’s teasing me.
I shake my head at him. “You’re so sure you’ll win. Have you stopped to think I might?”
“No.”
His answer shocks me, and I frown at him. “I believe I’m going to win.”
“I know you do, but I won’t let you,” he tells me.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then we’re agreed.”
“Coop, even if by some miracle you did win, you can’t always have it all,” I say. It’s true.
