Page 58 of Waiting for a Prince
Mark pressed his lips to Sam’s shoulder, the skin silky and warm beneath his lips.
Are you really here?
He moved slowly across Sam’s back, laying a carpet of tender kisses across his shoulder blades, then down his spine, only to drift upward to his shoulders. Mark laid his hand against Sam’s chest, stroking the smooth skin of his pecs, before moving slowly downward to his abs, trailing his fingertips over the contours.Sam stirred slightly, his back stretching as he leaned into Mark’s touch.
“Good morning.” Mark spoke quietly into Sam’s ear before kissing it, loving the shiver it elicited.
“Morning.” Sam reached back to touch Mark tentatively, the angle awkward.
Mark wasn’t having that.
He shifted his body away from Sam’s warmth and pushed him onto his back. He pressed his body up against Sam’s side. Sleepy blue eyes regarded him, no trace of unease in his expression. Sam put his arms around Mark, his fingers stroking down Mark’s back and over his biceps, finally gliding over his chest, accompanied by little sounds of pure contentment.
“Your skin feels so good, so soft.” Sam’s shy smile was adorable. “I think I could become addicted to touching you.”
Mark could so easily become an addict himself.
“I’ve never had this before,” he murmured. Sam tilted his head, and he smiled. “Someone touching me so…” The word ‘lovingly’ hovered on his tongue, and in that second he recalled Sam’s declaration of a few hours ago.
It wasn’t a dream, was it?
His stomach roiled, his throat suddenly as dry as dust.
“Mark.” Sam’s voice broke through. Mark gazed down at him, taking in the gentle smile that played around his lips, and the eyes that regarded Mark with warmth. “Love you. In case I forget to tell you today.”
And just like that, Mark’s tension rolled away.
“Love you too.
Sam’s lips twitched. “But I’m going to have to stop touching you for a sec. I need the bathroom.”
He chuckled. “I’ll need it after you. There are fresh towels in the airing cupboard. And there’s a new toothbrush under the wash basin and toothpaste in the wall cabinet.”
Sam’s eyes gleamed. “Thank you. I was about to ask for those very items.” He threw back the sheet and got out of bed, moving toward the door.
“How is your head?” Mark blurted.
Sam turned in the doorway. “Better than last night. In fact, it isn’t aching right now.” Then he disappeared from view.
Mark lay there, listening to the sound of running water.
We have some talking to do.
Sam’s words lingered in his mind.
The idea of telling anyone, even you, that a woman hit me. I mean, women don’t hit guys, do they? God, Mark, I was so ashamed.
Mark could write a book on that shame.
I need to tell him.
Maybe sharing his own experiences would help Sam see his wasn’t such an unlikely occurrence. And maybe that would bring the healing Sam needed.
Except that would be one heady conversation, and after the night they’d had, he wanted to give Sam a breather.
We could both do with one.
Sam lay beneath the sheet, listening to the birdsong outside.
