Page 41 of Falling For Us Again

For a few minutes, our ragged breaths and pounding hearts are the only sounds in the room.

Shifting, I pull her on top of me, kissing her forehead, her chin, and the nape of her neck before kissing her on the lips.

She lays her head on my shoulder, and I can feel the rhythm of her breath mingling with the beating of my heart. I slide my hand up and down her bare back.

Neither of us say a word, as we relish the comfortable silence that settles around us. Her fingers lightly trace patterns on my arm, a tender gesture that says more than words ever could.

As the minutes pass, I can feel her breathing slowly become more rhythmic. Her head is nestled comfortably against my shoulder, and her body gradually grows heavier, exhaustion overtaking her.

“Jenna,” I whisper, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake.

Her eyes flutter open for a moment, locking with mine before closing again, trust evident in her sleepy gaze.

Chapter 13

THAWING

Jenna

I blink my eyes against the early morning sun filtering through the curtains. My head aches a bit. I’ve never been one to hold my alcohol, and I groan as I roll to the other side of the bed. Instinctively my hand reaches out searching.

The fog of sleep slowly clears away when all I feel is emptiness.

I blink, and the events of last night come rushing back. The painting and then, breaking down from those memories...

Dylan.

He was with me through the night. I can still smell him on the sheets, and the scent of our passion hangs in the air. I touch my lips with a finger. His warmth, his kisses, and his touch—but he isn’t here now.

A rush of sadness fills me to know that after everything we shared last night, he couldn’t even wait to say goodbye.Oh Dyl..,

The scent of frying bacon wafts into the room pulling me out of my wallowing. I push myself up onto my elbows, the sheets sliding down my bare shoulders.

He’s still here! And making breakfast!

The beep of the toaster in the kitchen left no room for misinterpretation. I jump out of bed, throwing his shirt over my naked form. Grabbing the collar, I close my eyes and take in a big whiff of his spicy cologne, mixed with my essence, our unique personal fragrance, and a reminder of the unforgettable passionate night we just shared.

The cold floorboards creak softly under my feet as I walk toward the kitchen.

Dylan is humming softly, swaying lightly on his feet while he flips something in the pan. I hover in the doorway watching him. He’s so beautiful. His back is towards me, and I admire him from a distance.

The morning light catches on the curve of his shoulders and run over the muscular planes of his back casting him in a golden hue. I can’t stop my eyes from following it down his trim waist, to his tight butt.

I flush, remembering how I had gripped those mounds last night as I rode waves of pleasure.

There’s something different about him this morning. The tension that usually follows us seems to be missing. He seems…peaceful.

I take the chance to observe him uninterrupted, captivated by his presence.

He turns, and his face lights up with a smile when he sees me.

“Good morning beautiful.”

I take a shaky breath. I never thought I’d hear those words from him again. This was the way he always used to greet me.

“Good morning,” I return his smile tentatively, finally stepping into the kitchen. My voice is still hoarse from sleep, and now a rush of emotions. I clear my throat.

He walks over and kisses me softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you; I was hoping to bring you breakfast in bed.”

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