Page 63 of Audiophile

Days.

Weeks.

We share a bar of soap, learning each other’s bodies. Her hands are everywhere—slick, teasing, and warm. Though I want her again, I refuse to push her. Instead, we dry off and climb naked under the covers.

I wrap her in my arms, and though we talk, we also trade kisses. Short, long, gentle, harsh, fast, slow—all sorts of kisses that leave us both wanting. If we were dating, I’d turn it into more.

We’re not, and she’s unsure, so I suffer quietly until she’s drifting off. When she’s more full of silence than words, I turn off the light.

“Reed?” Her tone is wary in the dark. “Don’t—I’m not on the pill, so if you—in the middleof the night—”

I squeeze her in reassurance. “I’m not going to do anything without your awake consent, Pet. Promise.”

“Thank you.” She relaxes and rests her head against my chest, her breath already slowing.

But I’m wide awake and far from aroused. Why does it sound like someone’s done that to her before? My skin crawls as my own experience bubbles to the surface. I tuck her tighter against me—as if her warmth can offset the sudden chill—and smooth my hands over her back. Each of Petra’s curves is soft and sweet, a reminder of where I am and who I’m with. The orange and spice andmeon her skin is grounding, and it brings me out of the shadows and back into the present.

Back to Petra and the things she left unsaid.

Chapter twenty-four

Petra

Waking up naked inReed’s bed should be awkward, because what happens at night doesn’t always translate into the light of day. But Reed and I are twisted together, and the skin-to-skin contact is delicious. I’m afraid to destroy the moment, so I lay still, hardly breathing, and soak in as much as I can.

“You’re staring at me, Pet. It’s creepy,” Reed mumbles. His eyes open to a slit before he grins and hooks his fingers around the back of my neck to pull me in and press our lips together. There’s a light airiness in my chest that’s unfamiliar, but welcome.

“You’ve always been the creepy one, baby,” I tease when we break apart.

Reed frowns at me. “You’rebaby. Sir? Yes. Reed? Definitely.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“You cheeky little brat,” he growls as he rolls me under him and kisses his way down my neck. His hands are everywhere—my thighs, my hips, my breasts—making all of me tingle as I giggle. His stubble scratches across my skin as he licks a trail between two of my freckle-type moles.

If I’m a brat, you’re a cocky dick.I smooth my hands down his back. “What are you going to do about it,spavaldo?”

“Does that mean tall, dark, and handsome?”

“It means someone who is really sexy,” I lie.

“Spavaldo,” he repeats, sounding it out. It takes everything in me to hold back my laughter. “Better than boss any day. When do you have to go to work?”

I groan. The last thing I want to do right now is go to work, but real life awaits. “Two. Is your checkout time ten or eleven?”

“I’m staying one more day.”

I pin him with a look. “Reed.”

“What?” he asks, smirking. “Have you had enough?”

I haven’t, and it’s unsettling. Every moment he’s here makes me want him to stay longer. “Eventually you’re going to lose interest and go home.”

His fingers dance along my side. “I haven’t yet.”

Logically, we need to have this conversation; emotionally, I’m already too attached. “I’m not running you out of town. Do what you want. But I’m not having sex with you no matter how long you stay. If that’s what you’re waiting for, you can head out now.”

“I’m not here for sex,” he says, shaking his head. “Though I’m not turning it down if the offer is ever on the table.”

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