And his tongue.
Yes, I so wanted more.
I got it.
We did not kiss.
We made out.
I had both my hands wrapped around his neck, he still only had one sifted into my hair, but he’d tangled his fingers in it, when he lifted his head.
“Tapas are gonna get cold,” he muttered to my mouth.
“Can’t have that,” I muttered back.
His gaze lifted, and for a second, clear as day, I saw stark relief mixed with lazy after-makeout heat.
Before I could fully take that in, he slid his hand out of my hair, reclaimed the food, his backpack, and I had no choice but to get up because he also claimed me by tugging me from my chair.
I got up, and holding hands, we walked into my house.
I had on a pair of honey-colored paperbag boxers and a black slim-fit, shelf-bra cami, and I was staring into the mirror over the sink in my bathroom.
I’d changed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and moisturized, and I had no excuse not to go out to where I’d left Rix, sitting on the side of my bed.
I was fretting again, because my sleep outfit was cute.
But I didn’t look like a Sports Illustrated model.
This is Rix.
You’ve shared another great, chill, awesome night with him.
He’s still here.
With you.
Yours.
For a time.
Stop fretting.
And take the leap.
I sucked in a breath so deep, I had to choke-cough twice before I recovered.
Then I walked out, got past the hallway created by my closet, and stopped dead.
This was because Rix’s deeply muscled, impossibly-wide-shoulders-tapering-down-to-his-narrow-waist back was on display.
And he had a tattoo.
Rising from the small of his back, the wingspan reaching from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, flames dancing all around, was a Phoenix.
Okay, how was it a woman’s heart could weep and her vagina gush at the same time?
I didn’t know, but it was happening to me.
He was standing, wearing sleep shorts that ran long.
But when he sensed me, he turned.
Oh…
My.
Protruding pecs, anatomical-style muscle definition, a collarbone that made my mouth water, black chest hair that covered his pectorals in delicious swirls narrowing to a line that followed the indent that ran down the middle of his cut abs, getting seriously dense under his navel.
That hair under his navel done me in, and since it did, I couldn’t even fully take in his bulging, veined biceps and sinewy forearms, the last I’d seen before, but not as parts of all the other glory.
In fact, I had to reach out and hold on to the wall.
“You done in the bathroom?” he asked.
I was so overwhelmed by his sheer male beauty, I didn’t catch the tightness in his voice.
I also couldn’t speak.
I nodded.
He moved my way, almost past me, but he stopped.
I twisted my neck and looked up at him.
He stared at me.
It took a second before I realized that was odd.
I took a wild stab at what it might be about.
“Did you bring your toothbrush?” I asked.
He lifted a hand.
I tore my eyes from his handsome face to see he had a toothbrush and toothpaste gripped in his fist.
He even held a toothbrush and toothpaste in a way that was reminiscent of the caveman who beat another caveman to death with his bare hands in order to claim that man’s cavewoman, and then he lifted the arm of his victim that’d he’d ripped from the poor guy’s body up in victory.
I nearly moaned.
I fought that urge and said, “You don’t have to bring toothpaste next time. You can use mine.”
His head tipped to the side in a gesture of confusion.
And he still didn’t move.
I was about to say something else, but didn’t, because his hand came up, and as I was learning was Rix’s way, he claimed my ear, this time the front of it and some of my jaw, in order to drop his head and brush his lips against mine.
He let me go and carried on to the bathroom.
I gave myself a sec to enjoy the aftermath of the lip brush before I finished the short trek to my room, turned my Vornado vintage fan on low, because I was a white noise, snuggle in your covers girl (thus even turned the fan on in the winter), then I wondered if Rix was a white noise dude.
In the end, I decided I could just ask him when he returned. If he wasn’t, it was simple enough to turn off.
I dumped some toss pillows on the floor, pulled back the coverlet, slid in, and felt my lips tip when I pulled back Rix’s side too. I then rearranged the pillows from standing on their end to sleeping position.
I was sitting cross-legged in bed when Rix came out.
I managed to get beyond his chest this time, and although the sleep shorts were long, they didn’t pass his knees.
Which were cupped into his prosthetics.
I’d never seen them before, and they were badass cool. They looked bionic.