I turn my head, capturing his mouth in a hot, sloppy kiss before he moves off the bed to the bathroom. He returns a minute later with a couple of washcloths, using one to gently clean me up and the other to wipe the come that’s dripping down the wood headboard while we both laugh. After chucking the cloths into the hamper, he turns back to me as I’m lying on the bed, spent and boneless.
“Dylan, that was—I don’t think I have words,” I say, half laughing. “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
The surprised look on his face slays me, almost like he can’t imagine that I could have enjoyed it so much, but then his surprise breaks, and he grins, sheepish and sweet but brilliant. “I feel the same way,” he says, and then his smile turns downright devious. “And I haven’t even brought out my best moves yet.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I burst into laughter.
“Wait, you were holding back on me?” I gasp in mock indignation. “If those weren’t your best moves, you’d better sign me up for another round—and you’d better not hold out on me this time.” I smile wickedly.
After placing a soft kiss on his mouth, I slide a little way away from him, putting a bit more distance between us as I don’t want to stress him out by being too touchy-feely. I didn’t expect him to be much of a cuddler, and he isn’t, but as we lie together in his soft bed, sometimes talking and sometimes quietly enjoying the floaty, postorgasmic glow, he grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together and turning my heart into a big bowl of Jell-O.
It’s late, but I don’t want to assume I’m invited to stay the night. I’m just about to just bite the bullet and ask when he beats me to it.
“Would you like to stay?” he asks, but I can’t tell whether he wants me to say yes or no.
“I, umm…” I start.
“I would really like it if you stayed over.” The open, vulnerable quality of his voice nearly does me in.
Rolling onto my side so I’m facing him, I cup his cheek gently. “I was hoping you’d ask. I want to stay.” I break into a wide smile. “I really, really want to stay.”
His cheeks flush that beautiful shade of pink as he leans over and kisses me softly. “Good.”
Just as I’m drifting l off to sleep, I’m dimly aware of him shifting a little closer to me. He reaches out, placing his hand flat on my chest and warming my heart even more.
Chapter 17
REED
It’sbeenalongdamn time since I woke up in anyone else’s bed. Last night was so incredible, a small part of me wonders whether I dreamed the entire thing. But the huge cloudlike bed and the softly snoring lump of man beside me persuade me that this is actually real—no matter how unlikely.
Dylan’s not cuddled up close, but one arm is snaked across the bed to me, his hand still resting on my chest like it was when I fell asleep. I know he can get overwhelmed with a lot of touch, so I’m not surprised he’s not a big snuggle monster. His small touch is almost more meaningful; it tells me he wants me here. I love it because I know he’s not stressing himself out with too much sensory input, but he’s still finding a way to let me know he wants me here.
Turning to my side so I’m facing him, I scoot closer, and he stirs, his eyes fluttering open. He’s gorgeous this way, all mussed up and sleep drunk.
“Good morning,” I say softly.
Meeting my eyes, he returns my lazy smile. “Good morning.” Leaning in, I place a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes again and, rolling onto his back, grins and raises his arms above his head, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction as he stretches before turning back to me.
I’m one of those annoying morning people, and he mentioned last night that he gets up early to feed the horses and let them out of their stalls.
“I need to go and feed Goose and Maverick,” he says, and I smile at the names.
“Can I help you?” I ask, and a look of surprise crosses his face.
“Um, sure.”
“Only if you want me to. If it’s something you’d rather do alone, I won’t be offended,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“No, that’s fine. Come on, they’ll be getting hungry by now, and they get cranky pretty fast.“ A fond smile lights up his face at the thought of his beloved pets, and my heart skips a beat.
After throwing on some old, worn jeans, he tosses me a T-shirt since I never did make it back to my car for my overnight bag, and I slide into my jeans from yesterday. On our way out of the house, he points to a pair of boots for me to wear, then hands me a thick plaid jacket.
“It’s gonna be cold and wet, even though it’s not raining at the moment,” he says, buttoning up his own thick fleece.
I follow him outside and across his yard to the small barn. He unlatches the door, sliding it open while the pair of horses inside make excited noises—not that I know what horses sound like when they’re excited, but that’s what the grunts and whinnies seem to indicate.
A god-awful banging sound comes from one of the stalls, and before I can ask, Dylan speaks firmly to the chestnut-brown horse with the black mane and tail.
“Goose! That’s enough! Breakfast is coming!” He shakes his head. “This one’s always so impatient, and he’ll bang on the paddock door so hard he’s busted it open a couple of times. Silly Goose.” He strokes Goose’s nose with so much love and affection that my heart squeezes hard in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more profound example of the depth of the human-animal bond.