Page 55 of Savage Beauty

“Holy shit. Damn. I haven’t come like that in…” His deep, breathy tone assures me he enjoyed that as much as I did.

He slips out, and I close my eyes, breathing deeply to slow my heart rate. His rough, warm skin soothes the tender parts of my ass. The dresser is sticky beneath me, and the hard edge digs into my hip bones. I need to go pee to avoid getting a UTI.

I push off the dresser and, on wobbly knees, make my way to the bathroom. The door closes with a loud bang that makes me jump. I turn the shower on before sitting on the toilet, just in case he’s still in the bedroom. I don’t want him to hear me pee.

Showered, lotioned, and teeth brushed, I pause for a moment in front of the rectangular mirror, taking stock of my flushed skin and resting heart rate. That was fun. And healthy.

The orgasms he gave me were far more powerful than the ones my battery-operated devices give, or that various lab partners over the years have given. Orgasms provide stress relief, something we both needed after breaking and entering. Maybe he’ll want to do that again before we leave.

I swing open the bathroom door and freeze. The light from the bathroom spills into the bedroom, so it’s not like I can’t see. I just don’t know what to do with what I’m seeing.

I assumed he would go to his bedroom.

But no, he’s in my bed.

I should not have assumed. He didn’t shower, so he’s in my bed with sweat-dried skin.Ew.

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Did you shower?”

“No.”

Yuck. “Well, I guess I can sleep in the other bed.” Although that doesn’t seem quite right. This is clearly my room. My duffel bag and suitcase are right here.

He pats the mattress where he’s pulled back the cover and sheet and there’s space. He spreads his fingers as he pats the sheet, and I zone in on the two fingers that were recently inside me. And then a visual of him using that hand to stroke himself hits, and my hormone levels rise above a healthy range.

“Come on, beauty. It’s going to be daylight before you know it.”

He pushes up on his forearm. In that position, his bicep flexes, and his pecs stretch. The sheet drapes over his muscled abdomen.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t sleep in the same bed with other people.” I like to sleep on the same side of the bed every night, and I like for the sheets to be cool, crisp, and clean.

“You’ve never…you know what? I’m too exhausted. Get your skinny ass in bed. After what we just did, I’m going to hold you, and we’re going to fall asleep. We can dissect everything tomorrow.”

My eyelids are heavy. I am tired. The adrenaline levels from earlier have clearly declined, although I remain suspicious of my hormone levels. I let the towel drop to the floor and slide a leg against the cool cotton, then shift so my other leg fits. A palm flattens across my waist, then rough skin presses into my hipbone and I’m tugged across the bed into a wall of muscled heat.

He settles the sheet over me, and I roll onto my side, facing the wall, on my side of the bed. He inches forward, placing his long body next to mine once again.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Are you a cuddler?” I’ve read about those people.

“Not necessarily, but after I fuck the brains out of someone, I do like some skin-on-skin time. Especially when I want them close in case we do it again.”

“Again? In the same night?”

“Yes.”

Something warm presses onto my shoulder. I think it’s his lips. My arm drapes over my breasts protectively as I assess. I do kind of like him near. He doesn’t smell like I thought he would. Well, he doesn’t smell bad. He’s got this manly scent, and there’s still a hint of sex in the room.

The rough pad of a finger glides down my ribs. It tickles, and I squirm forward. Now, that, I do not like.

“Damn, girl. We’ve got to get some meat on those bones.”

“I’m not usually this skinny. It’s because of?—”

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