Page 31 of Signed With Love

My head tips back, my hair tumbling over his arms, and my throat vibrates with a moan as he grinds my body into his. I roll my head forward and lose myself in his hungry gaze. Our mouths taste each other and our bodies keep in sync as the pressure builds inside me. He doesn’t relent his pace or falter his deep strokes.

“You feel so good,” I say out loud when a deep vibration courses through his body. He must love hearing the words because it makes his grip on my body tighten and his control slip as he works to pull more sounds from me.

I’m taking a risk tonight. Likely the greatest one ever, since it’s my heart on the line. Something I’ve never placed out there for someone to take.

???

His fingers glide through a curl and trail down my shoulder. His touch is drawing that same awareness from my body as when he explored it for hours last night.

I turn around and face him. The smile remains on my lips.

You hungry? he asks, wearing an answering smile of his own.

I shake my head but decide I should get out of bed first to make him breakfast. I might not be hungry, but I’m sure he is.

He squeezes my leg, then climbs out of bed and slips on a pair of the sweats he packed. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. He steps from the room, and I rise after him. I’ve never had someone invade my space like he is. I don’t mind; it’s just different. I’ve only had one roommate, and that was Maddie. I’ve also never asked a guy to stay a weekend with me like I asked him. This is uncharted territory for me. It’s dangerous and risky. I can’t get used to having him around the house or in my bed.

I slip on some workout clothes, freshen up in the bathroom, then follow him into the kitchen. He’s reaching for a skillet, his muscles flexing with the movement. I felt and explored his body in depth under the light of my bedroom, but the added sunlight from the kitchen window emphasizes the details more.

Mind if I make us some eggs and bacon? he asks when he catches my attention.

I find myself more lost than ever, but I shake my head. I usually fast in the morning, and I told him I wasn’t hungry, but I don’t want to offend him by not eating his breakfast. He seems to catch on that I’m uncomfortable and sends me a reassuring smile. I busy myself with preparing coffee to distract from my crazy thoughts. There’s suddenly a tingling sensation sweeping over my body. Even my underarms sweat as I watch the coffee drip into my mug. I don’t want to disappoint him.

My anxiety sneaks up and takes over, causing my focus to waver. With a quick glance at my watch, I see it’s after eight. I lost hours of my morning routine because of Jamison. I’ve never slept in after five. I should have already gone on my run. Another glance at my watch confirms that the hours are really gone. It’s okay, because last night I was impulsively living in the moment. I don’t regret them. I hadn’t fully given myself time to prepare, though. Now things are catching back up, and the surrealness of the moment is taking hold. I’ll admit my biggest concern is disappointing him or him thinking my quirks are too much to deal with.

You okay? Jamison asks. The concern causes his brows to push together. I hate seeing worry on his face simply because I’m having an off day and allowing the anxiety to win.

Jamison grabs his phone, abandoning all breakfast preparations. The deep breath fills my lungs, bringing the scent of him when he comes to stand before me. He’s typing in smooth and quick strokes across his phone. The message takes him time to compose, so I watch the way his jaw is taut and his brow is scarred. I observe the way his tongue slips out to wet his lip or how when he’s done writing, he hands the phone over and runs a hand through his hair. It’s tied back, but a bit of the front has come undone.

Tell me what’s going on with you, please? I don’t want you to regret last night. I know I didn’t give you much time to prepare. It was impulsive, but I don’t regret a moment of it. I like you, and I want us to keep whatever this is going. I need to know we are on the same page, though. So, we have to communicate above all else. Tell me every thought that’s going through your mind. Remember that secrets don’t make friends.

But sharing secrets does.

I finish the thought. The trust that we’ve developed has to be there between us always.

I just realized how much my morning schedule is off, which gives me a bit of anxiety, that’s all. I just have weird quirks sometimes. I don’t regret being with you; not one of those moments in your arms do I regret. I swear.

He glances at the time and cringes.

I’m sorry, he signs, then starts typing a response. I check on his bacon and eggs since he’s all but abandoned them anyway.

Jamison hands the phone back and takes the spatula from my hand. He places a small tap on my butt and returns to making breakfast.

I’m happy to see you don’t regret it. Let’s fix this. I have my own quirks you’ll learn too. I never meant to intrude. So, what is your normal Sunday morning like?

Usually, I’m up before five. I would have already run three miles, and I don’t break my fast until after noon.

I’m nibbling on my lip as I pass the phone back. He pauses and reads the message. The side of his lip rises. He turns the phone off and pulls the skillet from the stove. Jamison searches the cabinets above his head. He pulls one plate down and loads the breakfast onto it. After he digs around for a fork, he shoves the eggs into his mouth. He eats quickly, not sharing.

My stomach loosens. There was a knot forming. I’m able to take a sip of coffee. He devours his food in no time, then rinses his dishes off. He makes quick work of it, then he raises a finger and asks for a moment from me.

I lean against the counter and wait while sipping my coffee. I look out my kitchen window at the beautiful summer morning. The sun pours in and floods my kitchen in warmth. The room is simple, but efficient. Just how I like it.

Jamison returns a few moments later and is dressed. He’s quickly brushing his teeth and grinning at me. He glances at the time again, then asks for a few more moments. The smile touches my lips again. When he comes back freshened up and dressed in a sexy pair of gray sweats, he pauses with his hands braced on his hips. He contemplates for a moment, then asks, Three miles? Really?

Yes, but you don’t have to. You just ate.

I want to. I’ll be fine.

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