Page 50 of The Naughty List
I wipe my nose. “It’s my curse.”
He shakes his head. “It’s the most wonderful thing about you, Hollis. You never stop allowing yourself to feel. So many of us get burned a time or two and shut everyone and everything out. But not you. You are the strongest woman I know.”
“You must not know very many women.”
He glances at me with raised brows. “Actually, I—”
Cutting off the rest of his statement, I dig my fingers into his ribcage and tickle mercilessly.
“Okay, okay,” he breathes out, rolling us over and grabbing my wrists with one hand.
He pins them above my head and stares into my eyes, into my soul, before kissing me deeply.
This time when Jonah presses his body into mine, we make one another whole.
* * *
I wakeup sometime around sunrise. The bedroom is bathed in pale orange light from the glow in the window.
My back is sweaty where Jonah is curled up behind me. I’m held in place by the weight of his muscular ink-covered arm. Using only the tips of my fingers, I gently caress his forearm before lifting it and slipping out from under him.
Jonah, naked, unconscious and peaceful is a beautiful sight. If I was an artist, I would have to paint this. But since I can’t even draw stick figures proportionally, I take a mental picture, something to hold onto like a souvenir.
Before he wakes up to find me staring like a creeper, I pull on a midnight blue button down shirt I find lying over a chair, along with his gray sweatpants, and make my way to the kitchen.
Zeus is waiting patiently by the door already and Achilles is pacing like a pup possessed.
“Good morning, boys,” I greet them, grabbing the leashes so I can take them outside.
It’s freezing and Jonah’s jacket only provides so much protection from the cold, so I make our trip a quick one.
When we get back inside, both dogs curl up in their beds and I contemplate doing the same. But the evidence that last night wasn’t just a dream is all over the kitchen. And in the delicious soreness between my legs.
Erma shouldn’t have to deal with this. It’d be like cleaning up after a party she wasn’t invited to.
I get to work, salvaging what I can of the cookies and my gingerbread village while cleaning the counters and floor.
Once the kitchen is sparkling, I check out the refrigerator to see what our breakfast options are.
Jonah’s eating habits and strict diet mean eggs and bacon are out.
I find avocados and tomatoes and make some whole wheat toast to go with them. There’s oatmeal and fruit also so I make a little of everything. After boiling a cup of water to make coffee in his fancy French press, I pour myself some orange juice. I down a glass quickly, not realizing how dehydrated I am from last night.
It’s only then that it hits me.
I had sex with Jonah.
I gave him my virginity, and everything else.
My insides seize, like my heart has cramps.
What if he wants me to leave? What if he just expected this to be a one-time thing and then I was supposed to clear out this morning?
Here I am, making myself at home. Playing house like I live here.
He did say he didn’t want things to change between us. Unfortunately it wasn’t at the most opportune moment to ask for clarification on what he meant.
I’m just about to succumb to a full-blown panic attack when he appears in the doorway to the living room. Clad in only his boxer briefs, he gestures to my outfit.
