Page 79 of Sleepover

Chapter 39

Elle

If it weren’t for the condom, I don’t think either of us would ever move again. But after a while I feel him pull away, and then he rolls off me and goes to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.

I can still see the expression on his face when he braced himself over me and looked deep into my eyes, when I saw his emotions laid bare while he moved in me.

For that moment I could feel his feelings and he could feel mine. And we were both turned inside out, desperate with the need to connect, terrified, elated, falling without handholds or footholds, without promises or certainty, without a net.

It took me over the edge as surely as he could do with his knowing fingers.

But now, of course, I’m wondering: Was that real, what I saw? Or a product of my own brain, addled with sex hormones?

He comes back and stands above me, looking down. There’s an odd expression on his face.

“What?” I demand.

“That was—wow.”

I smile. “It was pretty wow.”

He climbs into bed, wraps his arms around me, and draws me close. I settle my head against his chest. He’s big and warm, and he smells so good, and…“I’m so…sleepy…”

I yawn, and it’s catching; Sawyer yawns, too.

“So sleep.” He shrugs under my cheek.

“But—we have this room and this night. We can’t waste it.”

He laughs, a lovely rumbling under my ear. “Sleeping with you in my arms is not a waste. I mean, think about it. We can get each other off pretty much anytime, but how many chances will we get to do this?” He wraps me tighter, inviting me with a hand to loop my leg over his, which I do. It’s bliss, the feel of his strong body the length of mine, and I let the feeling wash over me.

But then for some reason I hear his words echo—how many chances will we get to do this?

“You mean, because of the boys? Because of having to end up in our own beds?”

“Yeah.”

He’s right, of course. He’s absolutely, 100 percent right. We aren’t going to spring this on the boys until we’re absolutely certain, and in the meantime, there aren’t going to be many times we have the luxury of spending a whole night in each other’s arms.

But he hasn’t said “for now.” He hasn’t said “until we tell the boys,” or “until we’re public,” or—well, anything.

Instead, he made it sound like he still thinks of this as temporary. A relationship yes, but not—

Well, not a forever relationship. Not a marriage.

Oh, Elle, you crazy idiot. Back the hell off. Calm the hell down. Live in the moment. Enjoy what you’ve got.

“You okay?” He lifts his head. “I can feel you thinking a million miles a minute.”

“I’m fine.” Somehow, I manage to make the word sound normal, even bright. And in case he needs convincing, I add, “How could I be anything but fine after sex like that?”

He makes a rough, contented sound. “Sorry it was short.”

“Short, but wow. Anyway, you warned me.”

“And I can make it up to you.” He shifts under me until I feel his cock against my inner thigh, warm and heavy and hardening. “Unless you’re too sleepy?”

See, Elle? He wants you. And he told you he wants a relationship with you. That’s all you need to know right now. The rest is just you borrowing trouble.

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