Page 36 of One Day

I am so utterly screwed right now, and somehow, I can’t seem to care as I move up onto my elbows, taking in his very much clothed body. He moves onto the bed, the rough denim of his pants scratching my tender skin.

Placing my palm on the center of his chest, I meet his gaze. “Clothes.”

He pulls back and gives me a teasing look, picking at the fabric covering his chest. “What? You like my sweater?”

“Walker,” I whine, reaching for the hem. “Off, now. Please.”

“Well, since you said please.”

With one leg on either side of mine, he sits up on his heels and reaches behind his head for the collar of his sweater. My breath hitches, studying the trail of skin it leaves in its wake. The tanned and taut muscles of his abdomen, leaving me in a spiral as I drink in my first time seeing his naked chest.

“What’s that look for?” he asks, tossing his top onto the floor next to my disposed dress.

I shake my head and reach for the buckle of his belt. “Just committing your body to memory is all.” Not at all afraid to admit the truth to him. I know he won’t hold it against me.

“In that case, we better get these off,” he says, reaching for the button of his jeans.

“Let me,” I say, swatting at his hands before undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. I sit up, moving my fingers to the black band of his boxers. Slipping my hand in, I wrap my fingers around his hard length and give it a firm stroke, watching the tight lines on his face crease as he stumbles forward in my hold.

“Sunny,” he groans when I run my thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Sit back,” I say, nudging him back. He does as I ask, and I follow, sitting up on my knees to work his jeans the rest of the way down. I toss them to join the pile of our clothes, and when my eyes land back on him, my breath hitches.

“God, Walker…” I exhale when I take him in. All the hard lines of his body, the dark trail of hair from under his navel that I’ve only ever seen peek out from the hem of his shirt when he stretched. And boy, does it lead to a gift. “You’re…pretty.”

“Pretty?”

I nod my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Like really, really pretty.”

“Well, that’s certainly a new compliment in bed,” he says, a growing grin taking up his face, and I can’t help but smile back at him. This was not at all how I saw my night ending, but I’m certainly not about to squander it.

I’m about to reach for his length, the tip dripping, when he meets me halfway and finds my lips again. His hands trail down my naked body, and when he moves to push me onto my back, I’m forced to pull back. “Hey, wait,” I say, trailing my hand down his chest. “It’s my turn.”

He shakes his head and presses his lips to my jaw, finally getting his way and laying me down. “I’m not going to last if you do that,” he says, kissing me on the lips and then the hollow of my neck. My lips part, ready to tease him, but his mouth is back on mine, and any thought I may have goes out the window. “You’re still sure about this?”

I nod my head. “And you?”

“More than sure,” he says, kissing the corner of my mouth and then my collarbone, his hands working their way down to the curve of my waist. His grip is firm, lifting my hips towards his. A moan falls from my lips as I rotate my hips upward, grinding into him.

Each corner of my body fits with his like a puzzle piece. His hands slide over my ass, his fingers curling into my skin. “I am, too,” I say, running my fingertips along his back until I have his face between my hands. “I’m always sure when it comes to you, Cowboy.”

His lips find mine again, and my hands run through his hair and down his back. Every edge of him feels right against my body, and the warmth seeping into my skin is something new. In all my other experiences, it’s never felt like this. He feels different.

Better.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, pushing up from me when I lift my leg to hook behind his. “I hadn’t really…I wasn’t really thinking when I ran here.”

“I have some,” I tell him, pointing to my nightstand. “Top drawer.”

He leans over and pulls the top drawer open, taking out one of the foils. When he turns his attention back to me, amusement is etched on his skin. “Do I ask why you have so many?”

A laugh falls from my lips. “You’ve met Dylan, right? He practically throws them at us.”

“Remind me to thank him later.”

“Or you could not do that,” I say, taking the condom out of his hand to rip it open. He falls silent, watching me beneath hooded eyes as I roll the condom down his shaft and then lift my head, holding his steady gaze.

“No turning back now.”

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