Page 48 of Where It Begins

“It was.”

“We need a shower.”

“We do. Wanna cuddle for a few minutes first?”

“Absolutely. But can we roll over so I’m not lying in a wet spot?”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

IT WAS A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME

Skye

“Oh my God, I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck,” I groan as I flop onto my back.

Sidney rolls to his side, a frown furrowing his sexy brow. His hair is a rumpled mess, he has sleep lines across his cheek and he looks damn well amazing. “Are you having a lactose reaction? I thought dinner was non-dairy.”

“I’m not having a reaction to dairy. I’m having a reaction to all that physical exertion yesterday. Muscles I didn’t even know existed hurt.” Even adjusting my pillow hurts. “I don’t know that I should attempt three-hour marathon sex at my age.”

Sidney snorts. “You’re not even forty, Skye. You’re basically riding the tail end of your sexual peak, and you weren’t complaining about the marathon sex last night.”

“It seemed like a good idea,” I mutter. “I need a Tylenol, or three. And maybe some electrolytes. And I highly recommend that you don’t take another blue pill today unless you’re down with voyeurism. Why do my forearms hurt this much? Even my eyebrows are sore.”

Last night after dinner, which ended with me as dessert on the dining room table, I suggested Sidney take a little blue pill so we could keep the party going. I blame the orgasm brain and the entire bottle of prosecco I consumed for that ridiculous idea. Sidney performed just fine without the blue pill. Sidney on the blue pill was a three-hour joystick ride that was a lot of fun in the moment, but the aftermath is something else.

I probably need to do yoga more than once a month.

Sidney rolls off the bed and hops to his feet. He’s gloriously naked. And hard. Which seems like it should be impossible considering the excessive amount of boning we did last night.

I throw an arm over my face. The movement makes me groan in pain. “Stop taunting me with your rippling abs and your boyfriend dick!”

“I’ll be right back with painkillers and water.” He saunters out of the bedroom, bare ass jiggling.

“I love you and your butt,” I call after his retreating form.

“Same!” he calls back.

A minute later he returns with a glass of water, a Gatorade, and two extra-strength painkillers. “Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee and we can start our morning with a soak in the hot tub? That might help ease some of the aches?”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Good. But before I do that, I have one other suggestion.”

“Okay, shoot.” I down the painkillers and drain the water.

“Orgasms have analgesic properties.”

“I’d need to be hella drunk to entertain anal.”

Sidney laughs. “I’m not suggesting anal, baby. I’m suggesting I give you an orgasm. If nothing else, it’ll take your mind off the aches for a few minutes.” He arches a sexy brow.

“I’d be willing to test the effectiveness of that theory.”

Twenty minutes and two oral orgasms later, Sidney and I are relaxing in the hot tub with travel mugs full of coffee spiked with Bailey’s. I also have my Gatorade. The hot tub boasts an incredible view of the lake, and there’s a lattice privacy barrier covered in blooming flowers, so we’re hidden from the neighbors' view. I have a feeling, based on our introduction yesterday, that this is highly intentional.

“Looks like last night went smoothly for the kids,” I say as I check my most recent message from Violet. She’s already at tutoring and Miller is at hockey practice.

“I’m so glad they’re getting along,” Sidney replies.

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