I grinned as I snuggled close. “Then it’s a deal.”
I woke up before Reece.
It was still early and only a thin sliver of sun was peeking through the blinds from the window across from the bed. We were tangled together, our arms and legs forming a pretzel. Somehow, I was on my side, my back tucked close to his front.
When I dared a peek at him over my shoulder earlier, I probably ended up staring at him for an unsuitable amount of time, but it was rare to catch him so relaxed. The sculpted lines of his face were relaxed. No trace of Cop Face whatsoever, but there was still no mistaking he was a man—a man who’d fought overseas for our country and had come home and put his life on the line every time he clocked in for work.
If I was honest with myself, he was probably the first man I’d been with. Not that all the other guys were boys, but none of them took on the kind of responsibility that he did. The worst any of them faced was a delayed plane or their Internet stalling out on them while they were playing Call of Duty.
But he was more than just the sum of what he did for a living. Yes, he was brave and strong, but he was also kind and honest. He was loyal. He was wicked smart, and he knew how to work my body like it was built just for him.
Rehashing last night in my head, I felt my cheeks heat as I clearly recalled asking him to do me, but replace the do with a fuck, and I’d never said that to a guy before.
All I remembered was falling asleep facing him, talking about omelets and deals, and now all I was thinking about was how . . . how great our first time was.
Our first time.
I ran the tips of my fingers over his still hand, tracing the strong muscles and bones. I’d been fantasizing about having sex with Reece for a fairly decent amount of time. Years, really. Even though we’d gotten close to doing it almost a year ago, and even after what we did the night on the couch, none of it came close to what it was actually like with him, which was amazing.
Our first time.
That was what I was thinking when I woke up. With the way everything was last night, I’d made the decision to delay the conversation I needed to have. I had no regrets about that. It was the right choice, but I was going to drive myself crazy if I didn’t clear the—
Reece shifted behind me without warning. His fingers curled around mine as his leg drew up between my thighs, spreading them. In under a second, his hips were pressed against my rear and his face was buried in my neck. I could feel him, hot and hard, slipping between my legs, resting where I was suddenly throbbing for him.
“Mornin,’ babe,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck as he let go of my hand and gripped my hip, pulling me back against his erection.
Biting down on my lip, I moaned. “Morning.”
His teeth caught my earlobe, and I gasped. He chuckled as he rotated his hips, pressing right against my core. My body arched all on its own, and he let go of my ear, making his way down my throat. Wow, he was frisky in the morning.
“I’m having a dilemma,” he said, voice rough with sleep and arousal.
So was I, because I was so torn between stopping him and having a much needed conversation, and seeing where this was heading.
“I really want an omelet,” he continued, nipping at my shoulder as he rolled those magical hips again. “I think I might have dreamed about that omelet.”
“Really?” I gasped.
“Yeah, babe.” He slipped his hand up my waist and then under me, cupping my breast. He squeezed gently. “But I also want to fuck you senseless.”
Oh my God.
I was so wet it was freaking ridiculous, and it didn’t help when he caught my nipple between his fingers. Okay. I really needed to focus on what was important. “Reece, I—” A cry cut me off as he rubbed against me, hitting that spot. “Oh God . . .”
“I know you want that omelet, and let me tell you, I make a damn good omelet.” His knee spread my legs further apart, and I braced myself on my forearm. “You’ll have a mouth orgasm once you have the pleasure of that omelet.”
There was a good chance I was about to have an orgasm now.
Brushing my hair over my shoulder, he pressed a kiss at the base of my neck. “But how in the hell do I walk away from this?” His fingers did something truly sinful with my breast, and my hips pushed back again, and it happened. I don’t know how. Call it an act of God, but the very tip of him slipped in. “Damn,” he groaned, holding himself still. “Fuck the omelet.”
In a heartbeat, he was inside me, buried all the way.
“Reece,” I cried out, my body a riot of sharp, splintering sensations. From this position, the fullness and length of him was so much more.
“I love the way you call out my name.” He kneaded my breast as he began to move, his hips pumping slowly and hitting every nerve ending my body was blessed with. “Do it again,” he ordered, his voice settling over me like velvet.
I did it again.
Pleasure licked across my skin as I rocked my hips back against his. Dragging his hand down my stomach, he thrust in, sealing my body to his as he shifted, positioning me on my knees. The feeling of him behind me was intense, overwhelming and wonderful.
I rocked my hips back against him, shivering at the sound of his approval. His grip tightened and then he started to move, his pace fast and hard. My hands slipped across the bed, reaching the spindles in my headboard. I grabbed them, holding on as he slammed into me.
My head was swimming. I couldn’t make sense of where his body ended and mine began. We were both moving frantically until his strong arm slipped under my breasts and he hauled me up. My hands hit the wall above my bed, and his hips pistoned up.