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I felt wrung out, but in the best way. My muscles were loose, and my head was empty of all but the scent and feel of Aya. I clutched her to me, unwilling to break this moment, break our connection.
She rested her forehead against my collarbone, also struggling to regain her breath. I kept one arm wrapped around her waist as I shifted us so my ass wasn’t hanging off the edge of the cushion. She tilted her head back, and I leaned in—almost as if we’d choreographed this, or been here in this position before. I could only wish, even as I marveled in the soft touch of our lips, the rightness of the connection.
“Aya.” I stopped, unable to think of what I could tell her.
She smiled against my lips. “You’re quite the snuggler. Almost as good as the sexing me up, but definitely sweeter.”
I chuckled as I tightened my hold. “I’m a lot of things with you that I wouldn’t be with others. I need you to know that. Remember it. Because the world just wants its pound of flesh.” I traced the elegant arch of her brow and the soft, smooth plumpness of her lip.
“Would you like to be this way with others?” she asked.
I continued to caress her face. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel safe. But you matter to me, Aya. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you how much back then, but it’s always been more than any album or record deal or trust fund.”
Her smile wobbled a little. “I understand,” she murmured. “And I love you, too. More than anything.” She cupped my cheeks and stared into my eyes. “I need you to know that.”
I frowned a little at her intensity, but my stomach rumbled. “Sorry.”
“I’m hungry, too,” she said.
I started to pull away, but she stayed me with her palm to my cheek. “Thank you.”
I swallowed, worry clawing up my chest. “For what?”
“For your patience as I worked through my fears. For loving me.” Mischief lit up her eyes. “And loving me very thoroughly.”
I laughed as I disengaged from her. Then, before she could argue, I swung her up in my arms and strode from the room. I padded down the hall and up the back stairs, ignoring Aya’s whispered demands to be put down, to get her clothes.
“No one’s here and no one’s going to walk in,” I assured her.
She looped her arms around my neck and rested her cheek against my shoulder. “Okay.”
I shouldered open the door to my room and marched us into the large bath. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then, we’ll find something delicious from Chef Steve.”
I set her on her feet in front of the marble shower stall. She began turning on knobs and adjusting the shower heads she wanted, so I went to the small room with the toilet and unrolled the condom.
I dropped it in the trash, wishing I didn’t have to wear one. We’d need to talk about what she was ready for. The rehab center had tested me for STDs, and I was clean. I was pretty sure she was, too, but we’d talk about that, soon.
I smiled as I re-entered the main bathroom and grabbed another condom out of the package I kept in one of the drawers.
Aya was under the rainfall showerhead, water sluicing over her tanned skin. Oh yeah, definitely after a long, long shower.
“You should talk to him.”
Aya and I lay on the couch in the library, which was fast becoming my favorite place in the house. She liked the books, the comfortable furnishings. I liked that I’d fucked her here.
“Talk to who?” I asked.
Jigsaw lay on my chest, purring. Mayet was curled up next to me while Aya snuggled on the other side, her head on my shoulder. This was bliss.
“Steve.”
I tensed.
“Why’d you have to go and ruin my good mood?” I grumbled.
She tickled the underside of Jigsaw’s chin. He shook his head, then yawned.
Aya remained silent.
