My eyes drop to the piercing in his lip and he leans in and gently sweeps his lips
over mine.
“You are so sweet,” he whispers and sinks into me, his hands pushing into my hair,
holding me to him.
I moan softly as he pushes me onto my back in the soft sand, protected by the blanket.
He lays over me completely, we’re still in our clothes, and he just kisses me, brushes
my hair from my face, and then pulls up, just a few inches, and smiles down at me.
“You’re going to get cold,” I whisper and rub his warm back with my hands. I love
the way his smooth skin feels.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs and shakes his head. “You smell so good.”
“So do you.” I smile shyly and nuzzle his nose with mine. “You’re still wearing pants.”
“Do they offend you?” He asks with a chuckle.
“Yes, I’m horribly offended,” I give him a mock-glare and shove my hands between his
underwear and the skin of his ass. “I love your ass.”
“I love your ass too. And it’s still covered.”
“You’re on me.”
“Yep.” He agrees and doesn’t move so I can remove my clothes.
“Well, then it looks like we’re at an impasse.”
“What if I just want to lie here and kiss you all night?” He asks, his face sober,
his gaze wandering over my face, his fingers still gently skimming my skin.
“Do you?” I ask.
“Hell no, I want to be inside you, but that wasn’t the question.” He laughs.
“Well, you can kiss me whenever you want.”
“Good to know.”
He kisses me again, and then rises up to his knees, pulls my pants down over my hips
and raises his eyebrows when he sees my thong.
“Nice underwear.”
“Please don’t tear them.” I laugh.
“No, they’re staying on.” He unfastens his pants, pushes them down around his thighs,
and lowers himself over me again, cradled between my thighs. I can’t believe I never
had sex in this position before him. I love the way he feels over me.
Although, I never would have trusted anyone before him to put me in this vulnerable
position.
“What are you thinking?” He whispers.
“That I love how you feel when you’re on me like this.”
He pulls his hips back, reaches between us to pull my thong to the side with his finger
tip, and slowly, so damn slowly, sinks inside me. “Oh, baby.”
“Okay, I like this, too.” I smile against his mouth.
“Oh, sunshine, you are incredible.” He kisses my nose and my cheeks. He’s so not fucking
me right now. He’s making love to me, and I can’t get enough of it.
“Why do you call me sunshine?” I ask, and wonder if he’ll tell me. My hands are roaming
all over his back, arms, ass. I can’t stop touching him.
“I told you before, because of your hair.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” I pull my fingers down his face and kiss his lips softly.
He takes a deep breath and moves very slightly inside me, making me gasp.
“I call you sunshine,” he whispers and brushes his knuckles down my face, “because
when you smile, you light me up inside.”
“Oh, baby,” I whisper and pull his face down to mine and kiss him fiercely, rocking
my hips. He begins to slide in and out of me, still slowly, but more firmly, rocking
his pubic bone against my clit each time he’s buried as far as he can go.
Night has descended completely around us, and I can hear crickets blending in with
the rush of the waves down the beach. I am wrapped in Leo’s warmth, literally as well
as emotionally. He pulls one of his hands down from my hair, along my face, and farther
still to rest over my breast. His thumb and forefinger worry the nipple through my
shirt, sending electricity straight to my center, and I pulse around his hardness.
He kisses down to my neck and bites my shoulder. “Come.”
And I do, softly, but no less intensely than when he fucks me stupid. I’m shattering
beneath him, gripping onto his back with my nails.
“Ah, damn, baby,” he groans and follows me over the edge into bliss.
***
“We really should get up,” I mumble and turn my face to kiss his chest.
“Why?”
“It’s almost noon.” I laugh. Leo chuckles and kisses my head.
“We don’t have anywhere to be until this evening.” He turns on his side to face me.
“What are we doing this evening?” I ask and trace the tattoo on his shoulder.
“We have been invited to Gary and Lori’s for a barbeque with the whole crew.”
“Oh, okay.” I sigh and snuggle deeper into my pillow, watching him. “What are we gonna
do today?”
“What do you want to do?” He asks and brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear.
“We could go for a run,” I suggest and chuckle when he frowns.
“Take a day off, sweetheart.”
“Well, we could at least start by getting out of this huge bed of yours and getting
some food. I’m hungry.”
He grins wolfishly. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”
“Come on.” I hop up onto my knees and nudge his leg. Leo’s eyes travel up and down
my nakedness and I laugh. “No more sex until I’ve been fed, Mr. Insatiable.”
“But you’re irresistible.” He grabs my hand and pulls me back down on top of him.
“No way, I can’t do anymore of the sex stuff until I’ve had food.” I kiss him and
playfully tug on his piercing.
“Fine.” He sighs deeply, pretending to be put out.
“Do you have food here?” I ask. We’ve grabbed food out since we’ve been here.
“There should be some basic supplies here. I had my housekeeper bring in a few things
the day we arrived.”
“Cool. Come on.” I jump up and throw a Train tee over my head, grab a pair of black
lacy panties out of my bag and pull them on and walk out the door of his bedroom without
looking back. “Get your lazy ass up, Nash!” I yell over my shoulder.
“Are you always such a nag?” He yells back.
“Yes!”
I hear him laughing as I reach the kitchen and pull out what I need for French toast
and bacon.
He pads into the kitchen, barefoot and bare chested, in just jeans with the top button
left undone.
My God, he’s delicious.
He smiles smugly as I look him up and down. “Like what you see, sugar?”
“You’re okay.” I shrug, smirk, and pull four slices of bread from the loaf.
“Don’t stroke my ego or anything.” He laughs and pulls the orange juice from the fridge,
pours us each a glass, and leans against the countertop, watching me bustle about
his kitchen.
“Your ego doesn’t need more stroking. You know you’re hot.”
He just shrugs and sips his juice. “It means something when you say it.”
When breakfast is finished, we carry our plates and juice outside onto the patio.
There are more clouds in the sky today and the air is not quite as warm.
“I think it’s going to rain today,” Leo comments and takes a big bite of his toast.
“God, this is good. Where did you learn to cook?”
“Mom and dad both cook really well.” I shrug and take a bite of bacon. “They made
us all learn. Earning our keep, I believe mom called it.”
He stops eating and frowns for a moment before taking another bite of toast.
“What?” I ask.
“What what?”
“What made you frown?”
He swallows and lowers his fork to his plate, a crease between his eyebrows. “My mom
used to say that too.”
He’s quiet for a while, staring at his food.
“Do you want to talk about them?” I ask quietly.
He shrugs and then exhales hard. “It’s weird, the things that trigger a memory.”
“How old were you when you lost them?” I ask.
“Twelve. Fucking car accident.”
I nod. I knew that from Meg. “What was your mom like?”
“She was so funny.” He laughs and smiles at me. “Seriously funny. I remember laughing
with her a lot, the way you and I do.”
“And your dad?” I ask with a grin.
“Dad was fun too. He was the musician. He taught me to play the guitar and piano by
the time I was six.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
“I preferred the guitar. Still do.” He shrugs and his eyes sober. “We listened to
Bob Dylan for hours on end. Dad had good taste in music.”
“What about your mom? What kind of music did she like?” I love that he’s talking about
his family. I have a feeling it doesn’t happen often.
“She liked pop music. We listened to a lot of radio in the car. She had a beautiful
voice.” He frowns again and I just want to scoop him up and hold him close. It breaks
my heart that he lost those wonderful people.
“I’m sorry you lost them,” I whisper.
“Me too.”
“Do you have photos?”
“Yeah, in one of the bedrooms. When they died, all of their belongings went into a
storage unit until I turned eighteen. I also got their insurance money at eighteen.
So, I packed up all of their personal stuff, sold or gave the furniture away, and
I’ve just kept all of their things in the boxes.”
“You’ve never gone through them?” I ask, surprised.
“No.”
“Not even to find some photos or birth certificates or something?”
“No,” he shakes his head and his sad gaze finds mine. “It always felt like an invasion
of their privacy.”
Poor man. “They would want you to do that.” I tell him with confidence.
“Some day, maybe.” He shrugs and then stands. “Come on, you’ve eaten. Let’s shower.”
I know the subject is closed. My heart is full and warm knowing that he shared something
so personal and sacred with me. We’ve come a long way in the past few days.
We work together cleaning up from breakfast and he takes my hand and leads me up the
stairs toward the master suite.
“Is your favorite color white?” I ask.
“No, why?”
“It’s really white in here.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re dying to redecorate the place, aren’t you?”
“Something needs to be done with it.”
“I like your place,” he comments and turns the water on in the walk-in shower, adjusting
the temperature.
“You do?” I’m surprised. “You don’t think it’s too girly?”
“At first I did,” he admits with a grin. “But it’s really homey. Comfortable.”
That’s the best compliment anyone could pay me about my home. That’s exactly how I
want it to feel.
I’m smiling widely at him, still fully dressed, as he shucks his jeans and pulls towels
out for us. He turns to find me watching him and offers me a half-smile.
“What is going through that gorgeous brain of yours?”
“Nothing.” I shrug, the smile still firmly on my face.
“No, that smile is not nothing. What are you so happy about?” He asks, wrapping his
arms around me.
“You,” I tell him simply and kiss his chin. “You make me happy.”
“Good, that’s the goal.” He pulls my shirt over my head and slips my panties down
my legs. “Now let’s make you clean.”
He leads me into the shower, wets a rag and lathers it up with my body wash and begins
to wash me, massaging my muscles.
Pampering me.
“God, that feels good. You have good hands.” I lean into him and close my eyes.
“They like touching you,” he murmurs and spins me so my back is to him and he can
wash and rub my back side.
“Seriously, if this music thing doesn’t work out for you, I’ll hire you to be my massage
therapist.”
“Good to know I have something to fall back on.” He chuckles and leads me into the
water to rinse me off. “Lean your head back.”
He methodically washes and conditions my hair, rubbing my scalp and thoroughly rinsing
it clean. When he’s done, I turn to him, take another cloth and lather it up with
his cedar-scented body wash and return the favor, washing him.
“I love your tats.” I watch my hands as they soap him up. “Mine are gone.” I wink
at him and glance down at my body, the black lines all gone.
“Mine won’t wash off.” He chuckles.
“Good, I don’t want them to.” I spin him around so I can wash his back and his ass.
“Okay, now your hair.”
“You don’t have to wash my hair.”
“Why?”
“I’m a little tall.” He smirks.
Hmm. True. He’s so tall, and I’m so short, that washing his hair will be a stretch.
“Lift me.” I back up against the wall and hold my arms out to him.
“Happily, sweetheart.” He plants his big hands on my ass and pulls me up to him. I
wrap my legs around his waist, loving how he braces me against the wall, pinned by
his lean hips. His happy eyes watch me as I soap up his hair and massage his scalp,
making the soapy strands stand on end.