“Not yet. Just a few more hours, then we can go.”
Whit runs those hands up my back and massages my neck. “Your aunt wants us there soon. I have to help with the pies.”
I reluctantly lean up and stare down at Whit, who’s looking deliciously rumpled. Love seeing him like this.
“Pies?”
He flushes. “I happen to be great at making pie.”
I smile widely and press a sloppy, morning breath kiss on his mouth. “You’re full of surprises. I'd be hard again if I wasn’t so wrung out.”
“I bet, but there wouldn’t be time for that anyway. It’s time to get up,” he says but continues to massage my back and neck. The incentive to move and get going is nonexistent. So, I just lie there and let myself be pampered by him.
After a few minutes of silence, and I begin to doze again, Whit says, “Your aunt told me the significance of this week.”
I tense against him, but he soothes it away until I’m putty in his hands.
“I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”
“Will you promise to tell me how I can help, Caleb? Will you let me be there for you?”
I press a kiss to his skin again. I can’t stop kissing him. All I want to do all day is run my lips across his body.
“Yeah.”
We’re silent for a moment, and then I say, “You can come with me to visit her. If you want. I’d like to introduce you.”
Whit’s fingers grip me tightly, and he shifts beneath me. “I’d love nothing more. I’m sure she was a wonderful woman.”
I exhale a shaky breath. “She was the best.”
We lay like that, my body cradled on top of his, before Whit finally says, “We really need to move and get going, Caleb.”
“Give me an incentive,” I mutter and press a kiss against his shoulder.
He thinks about it for a moment and then says, “I’ll eat your ass in the shower.”
I’m out of bed in seconds flat.
Whit follows me with a victorious smile.
Win-win if you ask me.
* * *
I lean back on the smooth leather seat of Whit’s car and close my eyes.
“You do amazing things with your tongue,” I say and listen as Whit starts the engine and begins to drive. “I’m going to be dreaming about it for years to come.”
“Hopefully, more likedecadeswith how much you screamed.”
I open one eye and look at Whit, who looks smug, those long fingers firmly gripping the steering wheel.
“Shut up, man. Never had my asshole licked before. It was transcendent. Saw Jesus for a moment there.”
He chuckles, and then I ask, “Can I do that to you? Would you let me?”
Whit glances over at me and then back at the road. “If you want.”