Page 48 of The Spark

“You already do,” I breathed.

And this time, when we came, it was quiet. Still. His release shuddering through me as he groaned into my mouth, and I held him there—body to body, soul to soul.

We stayed tangled like that, his heart thudding against mine, our sweat cooling between kisses.

“I got you.”

And I believed him. Again.

This time… without fear.

20

She was curled against me, one leg thrown across my waist, her face buried in my chest. I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe too hard. I just lay there, taking it all in.

The way her breath warmed my skin.

The faint scent of sex still clinging to the air.

The way my arms fit around her like they belonged there.

Sunlight crept through the windows, slipping past the dust-covered blinds, painting soft light across the room. It was the only thing in the apartment not fully renovated. The drywall was patched, but unfinished. Paint cans in the corner. A tarp folded at the foot of the bed. But it didn’t matter. She made the space feel full. Alive. Like home.

Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes blinked open. She looked up at me with that sleep-heavy stare, mouth slightly parted, breath still slow.

“Morning,” I murmured.

She didn’t speak. Just buried her face in my chest and sighed.

I smiled and stroked her back. “Hungry?”

She mumbled something into my skin that sounded like a reluctant yes.

I sat up slowly and reached for the tote in the corner. Pulled out some sweats and a hoodie. Tossed her the softest sweatshirt I owned.

She caught it and raised an eyebrow. “That’s all I get?”

“It’s oversized,” I smirked. “That’s the look, right?”

She tugged it over her head, and sure enough, it hit mid-thigh. No pants. Just legs and attitude.

I bent down to dig in the tote again. “You left these here once.”

She looked up just as I held out a pair of her old black combat boots.

Her eyes widened. “I forgot all about those.”

“I didn’t.” I stepped closer, watched as she slipped them on without socks. “I kept ‘em right here. Like I knew you’d come back for them.”

She stood and adjusted the hem of the sweatshirt. No bra. No panties. Her legs bare. Boots laced but slightly loose.

I stared. Couldn’t help it.

Her hair cascaded over her small shoulders, her lips still swollen from last night, and I was already half-hard again.

She caught my look and tilted her head. “We’re still going to breakfast, right?”

I licked my bottom lip. “If you keep looking like that… I don’t know.”

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