“Sleep sweet, love.” He leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. Before he can pull away, and before my brain even registers what I’m doing, my hand latches onto his arm. He looks down at me in question. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, but my heart is breaking at the thought that he’s leaving me.
That this is the last time I’ll have with him. The thought is unbearable.
“Please, Matthew, will you stay tonight? Will you lay here with me? I just… I don’t want to be alone.”
He pulls away from me, and my heart breaks with the knowledge that he’s going to walk away. I’m surprised when, instead, he toes off his shoes, then slips out of his shirt and pants folding them neatly on what I think of as his chair. I suck in a breath as I take him in. Without a bit of self-consciousness, he stands in front of me in nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs.
He’s gorgeous. Perfectly defined muscles and a trim waist. He’s drool-worthy, and I’m almost disappointed that I don’t get to look my fill. The disappointment only lasts for a moment, because then he’s crawling onto the bed beside me. I’m not sure what I expected but being pulled onto his chest and practically draped over his body, isn’t it.
I’m stiff for a minute, but then he weaves his fingers into my hair, and starts massaging my head and I sink into him. My ear is directly over his rapidly thudding heart, my arm thrown over his tight stomach. I wiggle around, trying to find the most comfortable position for my still injured backside. By the time I’m settled in, my leg ends up tangled between his. Careful of my still healing wounds, he runs his fingers lightly down the length of my body. It’s like he memorized where every single whelp is on my body and knows just where to touch me in order to avoid each and every painful mark.
Lost in his arms, I quickly fall asleep. For the first time in longer than I can remember, my sleep isn’t plagued with nightmares.