Page 43 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I shut off the shower and then return to the bedroom. “They’re not lines. They’re truths.”

“Tell me more of your truths.” Her voice is a whisper.

“I’m only in town until tomorrow, and I want to wake up with you beside me.”

“Are you asking me to come to a sleepover or out on a date with hopes of seeing the sunrise together?”

I know exactly what I want when it comes to her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reply, “Whatever gives me more time with you.”

“Such a charmer.” If happiness had a tone, hers embodies it. “You must have had a good night.”

“The best.”

“If it makes a difference, I did too.”

“That makes all the difference.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling shy. We’re joking around and keeping things lighthearted, which is probably best at this hour of the morning, but this is the most I’ve felt for anyone in a long time . . .

I look down at the pad of paper, tracing my finger over her pretty handwriting, and ask, “Where are you?” A knock on the door draws my attention. “Hold on,” I add quickly.

“Room service.”

Smirking, I unlock the door and swing it open. She holds up a bag and a cup carrier with two coffee cups. I say, “I’ve been waiting for you,” and then silently tack onall my life.

She moves inside the room. “Sorry I’m late.”

I let the door close on its own and take her by the waist. Holding her tight, I kiss her and then tilt my head to the side to kiss her cheekbone. When I reach her ear, I whisper, “You’re right on time.”

Despite her hands being full, her arms come around me, and she kisses me. “Sorry I didn’t make it back before you woke up. I wanted to.”

When I start kissing her neck, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back. I hear the bag hit the floor, and she exhales. The palm of her hand heats the back of my neck as she holds me there. “I hope you don’t have plans for breakfast.”

Leaning back, I take the tray of coffees from her and pivot to set it down on the dresser. Quick to return to her, I grab her by the ass and lift her into my arms. “I absolutely have plans for breakfast, but they don’t include pastries of any kind.”

She cups my face, and our lips crush together. Moving toward the bed, I overshoot it, and we tumble onto the mattress. Nothing deters us, though, and she starts pulling her shirt off while I tug down my briefs. Her bra comes off, then she unsnaps her jeans. Stopping, she says, “I need a little help.”

Looking down at her, I groan, “Not these damn jeans again.” I hop off the bed and grab the denim at her hips. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to buy you the baggiest fucking jeans to wear around me.” I give a little tug, and when she slides down the bed with them, I add, “Brace yourself.”

An eyebrow raises and then she grins. Fisting the sheets like she did last night, she lifts her hips into the air, digging her head into the bed. “Is this how you want me, Nick?”

Fucking hell. “Why are you so hot?” I ask rhetorically. I’m so hard for her it hurts, so it’d be nice if I could get these damn jeans off her. I get a good grip again, and this time, I’m successful.

Her bare pussy reminds me of ripping her panties last night, and my impatience to taste her again has me settling between her legs. Kissing her right there at her core, I steal her breath and cause her to squirm.

I hear my name through gasps as her heels dig into my shoulder blades. Pressing my dick against the bed, I seek relief, but nothing can replace the memory of how good she felt last night. So I study what makes her wiggle and what makes her moan, learning what she likes and what sends her over the edge to deliver exactly what she needs. Her body embraces my fingers as tremors rip through her.

Just when I’m about to slide up the bed to score another of her orgasms and lose myself in one of my own, I turn to her. “Please tell me you have another condom on hand.”

She starts laughing. “Since I’ve been rewarded already . . .” Pushing off the bed, she gets up and walks across the room, not one damn ounce of embarrassment found in the way she moves. Picking up the bag, she continues, “I’m not going to judge you by the lack of preparation, but if we’re going to make this a regular thing . . .” She tosses me the bag. “We’d better stock up.”

“On bagels or donuts?” I’m still erect from the sight of her naked body, so I shift to ease the discomfort. It won’t work since there’s only one true way to ease the craving.

Killing me, she takes her time crawling back onto the bed and then kisses my head. “Open it.” I like that she kisses my head before she sits down.

Opening the bag, I peek inside. “I feel like it’s my birthday or Christmas morning came early.”

She lies down, and says, “Speaking of coming . . .” Eyeing me, she darts her tongue out over the corner of her mouth. “Where were we?”

“Right about here.” Our tongues tangle in passion, and I slip my hand between us, rubbing until her body begs for more. I roll the condom down my length and push inside her, our bodies reconnecting once again.

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