I love hearing my name in his deep voice almost as much as I enjoy him calling medream girl.
“Tired and very satisfied,” I report.
His big hand is gentle, brushing my hair away from my face before cupping my cheek. “You are always beautiful, but you took my breath away when you came.”
I seem to be losing my own breath right now. “Thank you,” I murmur, turning my faceto kiss his palm.
“I’m serious. You are absolute perfection. Such a good girl for me.” He presses kisses all over my cheeks, nose, and forehead before he continues. “I like everything about you, but especially your pretty smile. You could brighten up a rainy day when you smile.” I am flabbergasted, utterly overwhelmed at his sweetness.
Of course I’ve had aftercare from partners before, but this is different. More than just making sure I’m okay physically. This is…after-praise? Yeah, that’s a good term for it, and I’m a fan.
Ignoring that niggling feeling at the base of my brain that tells me this is dangerously intimate, I snuggle closer to his naked body and wrap an arm around his waist. Reno runs his fingers through my long hair as he continues to whisper his pretty words against the top of my head.
After a while, he leans back and lays a kiss between my eyebrows. “I better go get our stuff from the porch. My wallet, your bag, our clothes. Before I fall asleep from exhaustion,” he adds with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Be right back.”
He rolls from the bed, and I’m in a tailspin. As soon as his warmth leaves me, I miss him. And that’s…whew. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not great. While my heart is warning me not to sleep in this man’s bed, my body is screaming the opposite.
Falling asleep in Reno’s arms is a horrible, wonderful idea, and I practically drool on myself as I watch his fine ass stroll to the sliding door. He is the perfect man, physically and...No, Juliette. You have to protect yourself.
Because I can already feel myself getting addicted to Reno Swain, and that could be perilous to my heart. This—whatever it is—will end in eleven days, and then I’ll probably never see him again. It’s best to lay out some ground rules.
Yes, rules. That’s exactly what we need.
My resolve dissipates when he returns with our things, giving me a full frontal view. And let me tell you, his frontal bits are just as amazing as his behind.
Is he hard again? Already?
That’s some serious book-boyfriend-level shit. Of course, I’ve written about almost instantaneous rebound times for men in my romance stories, but in real life? Yeah, that’s usually not a thing. Even in college when the guys were young and raring to go, there was at least an hour turnaround between sexy times.
As Reno sets our clothes and my clutch on the dresser, I sit up and hold the sheet over my chest.Like he hasn’t seen everything already, the smartass part of my brain drawls. But I feel like I need that extra layer of protection to work up my courage.
Also, my nipples could cut glass right now. So there’s that.
“What’s wrong, dream girl? You need to use the bathroom?”
“No, I—Yes, actually,” I say, scrambling from the bed and dashing into the bathroom.Chickenshit.
After using the toilet, I wash my hands and regard myself in the mirror. My hair looks like a family of squirrels has made their forever home on top of my head, and scruff burn reddens almost every inch of me. There’s something to be said about a man who’s thorough.
I find a hickey on the side of my right boob, and when I turn, I notice finger-shaped bruises dotting my ass. I’ve been thoroughly used, and I have absolutely no complaints about it. Because Reno made sure I was satisfied before letting himself come.
After finger-combing my hair, I find a bathrobe on the back of the door, sling it on, and sigh. It smells like him. Black currant and bergamot are underlined with a hint of something sweet and rich. Maybe vanilla?
Trying not to inhale too much to avoid the temptation of his man smell, I tie the sash around my middle and march out into the bedroom.
Reno is reclined back on the bed looking tastier than a whole bag of cherry Starbursts, one hand propped behind his head. His biceps bulge, and he grins at me.
“You look adorable in my robe, Juliette.”
“I looklike Dopey,” I retort, holding up my arms to reveal the sleeves that hang over my hands.
“Dopey is my favorite dwarf.” His eyebrows pinch together. “Why are you standing at the end of the bed like that?”
“I, uh, I think we need to set some ground rules for our… arrangement.”
He nods, sits up, and holds out a hand for me. “Of course. Come sit by me.”
Ohh, this is not good. Being within touching distance of this man is a temptation I don’t need when I’m trying to be all strong and poised and shit. But I do it anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.
