Page 54 of Finding Home

“Mr. Knightley, if I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.”

~Jane Austen,Emma

Church bells stirred Elle from a luxurious slumber. Clayton grumbled, rolling away from her to turn off the alarm on his phone. Rolling back to her, he snuggled Elle close, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“Good morning.” She flipped onto her back, remaining happily caged in his arms.

“Morning,” he said, his sleep-drunk voice low and deep. “How did you sleep?”

“Fantastic. You?”

“Better than I deserve.”

“You deserve a lot.” She placed a hand on his cheek, her chest filled with emotion.

“So do you.” He captured her lower lip.

The fluttering in Elle’s chest settled in her belly and turned nervous. Unspoken words, a needed conversation, waltzed between them.

“I don’t want to ruin this.” Her voice was soft.

“Hey.” Clayton combed his fingers into the tendrils of her sleep-mussed hair.

“This moment… I leave in a few weeks. I don’t know what will happen then. This could just be a moment for us or…” She stopped, searching his eyes.

“More.” His stare was intense and hopeful.

She squashed the potential promise building inside her. “I don’t have a plan, which is weird for me.”

His fingers slipped from her hair and traced the line of her lips.

“What I do know is that I like you…a lot. I’d like to keep seeing you, but I don’t know what tomorrow looks like for us. I want to live in the today with you…but I understand that is not fair to you and if you want to dial this ba?—”

The hungry press of his lips stole her words.

He shifted away. “If losing my brother has taught me anything, it’s that we’re not promised tomorrow. Elle, I would rather have one single moment with you than a lifetime with anyone else.”

Her breath caught at his words. “Did you just paraphrase Julia Roberts fromSteel Magnolias?” she grinned.

Humor was always her go-to for uncomfortable moments. It was hard for her to put herself out there, to ask for something she wanted. Elle had never experienced a moment where she wanted someone to care for her so much that they chose her. He chose her.No guarantee. Just his declaration that it was Elle, nobody else.

“Perhaps,” he said, with a playful lilt.

“I mean… it’s no Austen.”

“True. Ms. Austen would say…” He licked at the seam of her lips. “What are men to rocks and mountains?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” she giggled.

He coaxed her mouth open for a deep kiss before running his tongue down her neck. “If I could but know his heart, everything could become easier.” His tongue flicked her collarbone.

“Sense and Sensibility.” A flush of desire surged between her thighs.

“Very good, Ms. Davidson,” he said, lifting the hem of her T-shirt up. A slow hot flick of his tongue grazed one pebbled nipple, then the other. “There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feeling so in unison.”

“Persuasion,” she moaned, as he rolled her nipple with his slick tongue.

Her fingers threaded through his hair as he licked over to the second breast repeating his tantalizing action. Her breath shallowed as he pressed kisses in a firm line down her stomach, lingering with a soft kiss on her belly button. He cupped one of her breasts before moving farther down until his head was between her legs. His sharp inhale, and the soft touch of his lips made her stomach clench and pleasure sigh through her.

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