Page 24 of Fruitbat

“You’re perfect.” I weave my fingers in his dark waves.

His arms wrap me in a cocoon of his spiced body heat. Every inch of me is lit up, white hot, by his presence.

We lay in blissful stillness, until . . .

“I need to pee,” he whispers in my ear.

I laugh. “Me too,” and I release my grip.

He kisses my lips, twice, and peels himself off me.

I drink in the sight of his juicy ass and broad back scurrying to the bathroom, sitting up, I fold my legs into a knot as my eyes trace the room. If I were to stand up and spread all four limbs, I might be able to touch every surface.

There are crystals scattered about, catching lamp light, glamouring back at me.

The moon stares in the slanted window, its shadowy face gives me a wink, and I smile back.Did you enjoy that show? I sure did.

The bathroom door opens, and Danny strolls out, in a gloriously naked display, but bends down to collect his clothes.

“Don’t…” I protest.

He looks at me, through his lashes, with rosy cheeks.

“Don’t.” I grin, twitching the edge of my brow.

I hop off the bed and step up to him, unfolding upright, I kiss his mouth and gently swat his ass cheek.

“I’ll be right back. —I’m not finished with you yet.’’

He snickers, watching my backside sway into the bathroom. I give him a little shimmy before closing the door.

There’s just enough room to stand in the center and aim for the toilet with my hip nearly brushing against the vanity. A corner shower stall, behind the door, fills the space withthe most headroom, across from the slanting wall I lay my forehead against, until I’m relieved.

There’s a washcloth folded neatly on the edge of the sink, that feels like it was left out for me, to clean up with.

After I’m fresh and my curls are in place, I stroll back out into the studio.

Danny stands off the edge of the bed—still naked—holding a small plate with a lit birthday candle poking up from a chocolate snack cake with white icing swirls.I might burst.

“Happy birthday,” he beams.

“Where’d this come from?” I smirk.

“I slipped it in my bag, before we left the store,” he grins slyly.

I blow out the candle and kiss his lips. My throat feels thick and my eyes pinch back a well. I take the plate from his hand and set it on the kitchenette counter, before throwing my arms around his neck and covering his face with kisses.

His arms squeeze my waist.

“Thank you.” I gaze into his warm eyes.

“Eat your cake,” he blushes.

I gather the plate and hop up on the bed next to him. Folding one leg behind his back and dangling the other off the edge.

His hand falls onto my thigh, shooting a flitter of sparks to my belly. I pick up the cake with two fingers and bite a quarter chunk out of it. Smiling ear-to-ear as I chew, gazing starry-eyed at his beautifully scruffy face.

He smirks and that one dimple pokes me right in the chest.

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