Page 30 of Songbird
“Good night, Songbird,” he says, or at least I think he does. I might already be dreaming.
ten
Finn
Iwakethenextmorning from the best sleep I’ve had in years, the familiar feel of my mattress beneath me, my pillow under my cheek, and the fragrance of Rosie’s shampoo a sweet cloud around my head. I don’t know how we got here, but we’re spooning. She’s curled up against my chest, tucked underneath my arm, and clutching my hand against her breasts even in sleep. She fits the shape of my body perfectly, as if sharing body heat for eight hours molded us into flawlessly fitted puzzle pieces.
I inhale deeply, committing the smell of her hair to memory.
I really should sneak out before she wakes up and realizes we unintentionally slept together, but I don’t want to disturb her. She was a mess last night, and that kind of emotional processing is exhausting. Rosie needs to rest, and if the gentle pace of her pulse is anything to go by, she’s still sound asleep.
I can stay a few minutes more if that’s what she needs.
I let my eyes float closed, dozing and almost out again myself when Rosie stirs. Her grip on my hand tightens and her sigh isdreamy and disconnected. I smile softly to myself. But then she rolls her hips against me, and my eyes shoot open.
Fuck.Fuck.
Rosie’s fingers twist in mine as she arches her back, lifting her ass and pressing against my thickening dick. I clench my jaw and try to shift my pelvis back, but she follows me, moaning softly as she seeks contact. This time, I remain still as stone as she rocks her pelvis, her hand gripping mine even harder, like she’s trying to keep me close. I breathe through a groan, trying not to picture in too much detail how this would feel without all these clothes and covers between us.
Jesus Christ. I need to stop this before it goes too far.
I extricate my hand from her and gently slide my arm off her body, and the action is enough to jostle her out of sleep. She gasps, breath catching in her throat as she tenses beside me. Her ass is still soft and insistent against my dick, and she slowly shifts forward, like perhaps if she’s subtle enough, I’ll forget all about the recent grinding.
I put a little more space between us as she rolls to face me, her cheekbones alight with embarrassment and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, her eyes dropping to the erection currently trying to bust out of my boxer briefs.
I quickly rearrange the covers to hide my boner. She’s got nothing to be sorry about, but I don’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, thinking that she might prefer it if we pretend this never happened.
After an awkward silence, she sinks into her pillow with a soft smile, and the morning sun hits her hair to make it glow. “Better than okay. I don’t think I’ve slept that well since… well, a long time. How about you?”
“Same,” I admit. “I’m sorry. I should have sneaked away as soon as you were out, but I think I might have fallen asleep before you did.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “No harm done. Right?”
The expectation in her eyes hints at her need for reassurance. “Right.”
The room falls quiet, and I’m unable to look away from the openness in her gaze. My heart thuds at how beautiful it is, and when she rearranges herself under the covers, I’m reminded of the heat of her skin against mine, the way her fingers twisted in my hand like she was having a sex dream about me, and the agonizing temptation of her ass searching for my dick.
I clear my throat and stand in a hurry, collecting a sheet as I move and wrapping it around my waist to hide my rock-hard cock.
“I’m going to shower,” I announce.
“Okay.” Rosie’s confusion lasts only a moment before she declares, “I’ll make us breakfast.”
Even that isn’t enough to take the edge off my arousal, and I’m barely under the hot spray before my dick is in my hand. A dozen quick, rough pumps later, and I’m leaning against the wet wall, choking back a tortured groan as my orgasm paints the shower tiles. I can’t breathe. I can’t fuckingbreathe. Rosie has become the oxygen in my lungs, and she’s got the power to take it away.
A little while later, after I’ve cleaned up and gotten dressed, and we’re sharing another burned breakfast, I wonder how badly I’ve fucked up. Up until now, I’ve resisted the urge to think of Rosie when I come because I knew if I did it once, I’d want to do it again. And damn it if I didn’t know how right I was.
eleven
Finn
Afewdayslater,I’m starting to question whether there’s a single competent security team available anywhere on the planet. At the dining table with my laptop open and the remains of another inedible breakfast on a plate beside the keyboard, I delete the most recent candidate profiles for Rosie’s new personal bodyguard, hit “reply” to Drew’s email, and tap out a frustrated message.
None of these are up to scratch. Put the last three together and we might have a half-decent option, and half decent isn’t good enough. Sorry. We need to keep looking.
