Page 131 of A Temporary Forever

I smile as a vision of his naked form there invades my imagination. That would be a sight to wake up to for sure.

Unsure what to do, I take a few steps in. My gaze travels to the artwork above his bed, and I’m thrown back to the memory of his first visit to my apartment.

The first originals of Andrea Cassinetti cover most of the wall in an asymmetrical pattern.

That series included a set number of drawings, and it seems only one is missing. The one I own.

My heart loses its rhythm and beats to the chaotic cries of my emotions. Part ofmydecor is missing fromhispersonal space. The coincidence flutters in my stomach, tickling me with warmth.

“I don’t think you should sleep in your dress.” He breathes by my ear, startling me.

I pivot to face him. “I’m in your bedroom.”

Making a sound that might be a grunt or a snicker, he snakes his arm around my waist and yanks me to him. “Don’t make a fucking big deal about it.”

Is there color in his cheeks? It is a fucking big deal, but I’m not going to argue that now. We’re both tired, but we’re both here. The significance of this step drapes around my shoulders like a veil of both dread and excitement.

“Do you need anything from your room?” He pulls at the string that holds my dress closed.

While I was studying his room, he stripped down to his boxers.

Fuck, he looks good. I step back to admire the perfect triangle of his torso. Our affair has been a series of stolen, passionate moments, or me ogling him in secret.

I take my time, tracing my fingers along his biceps while my gaze travels in appreciation.

He pushes the dress off my shoulders and it pools at my feet. We stand there for several heated seconds.

For once we’re not rushing, the fiery passion replaced by something more potent. By intimacy that runs deeper than physical need.

“I’ll go get my nightie.” The words barely pass around the lump in my throat. I don’t know why or when it got lodged there.

He unclasps my bra. “Do you need it?”

With one hand, he cups my breast gently, his finger brushing my nipple while he hooks his other hand into my panties.

“I can never fall asleep naked.”

Maybe it’s left over from the years when I covered my body because I hated it, or perhaps it’s just a habit, but I certainly hate sleeping with all my curves and folds exposed.

Caleb squats and takes my underwear with him. He helps me step out of it and then shocks me when he leans in and kisses me between my legs.

It’s a reverent kiss. A worshipping one. Just a brief touch of his lips before he stands up. The gesture steals my breath, and feelings I’ve never felt spread in my chest.

He gives my lips the same quick but adoring peck. “There’s a first time for everything. Let’s go to sleep.”

I don’t know if he’s talking about having a woman in his bed or me sleeping naked, but it doesn’t matter, because the amount of firsts tonight marks is overwhelming, regardless.

He hauls me into his arms bridal-style and carries me to his bed.

“Stop it, I’m heavy.”

“I disagree.” He throws it out there casually, but strictly enough for me to reconsider any comeback.And what would I even argue? This man has only made me feel beautiful and desired.

After he slides beside me, he covers us both, positions me with my back to him and wraps his arm and leg around me.

I’m in Caleb van den Linden’s bed. Probably the first woman to do so. The event is significant by itself, but it feels unique because we just lie here.

The remnants of the day rendered us motionless. Or perhaps the intimacy is too much for both of us to act on it.

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