Wherever It Leads(37)

The slapping of our skin echoes around the room, the sound of my moans and his growls webbing together to push me over the edge.

I can smell his testosterone. I can taste his desire when he brings his lips to mine again.

It’s all too much.

“Fenton,” I say, my voice riddled with urgency. “I’m . . .” I don’t even get it out. I fall over the edge into a state of unbridled bliss. My body goes off, dozens of lights bursting before my eyes, my legs shaking uncontrollably as my body crashes around him.

My * pulses and when he groans, the shock waves start up again. I grind my body against him, digging my pelvic bone into his. The friction is tantamount to sensory overload and I collapse onto his shoulder, completely spent.





“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I roll onto my back in the giant bed. It’s the first time in a long time I feel completely content. My body hums, satisfied, my mind quiet despite the always-there stresses of life. It’s a feeling I could get used to.

My hair, still wet from the shower I took with Fenton after our rendezvous, is wrapped in a soft white towel. My body is wrapped in another one just like it. The material is soft under my hands, but I prefer the hardness of Fenton’s muscles as I suds up his skin. Washing his body will forever be my happy place.

“Looking at you like what?” he asks.

“Like you are. Like you’re figuring me out or something.”

“Oh, rudo. I’m not figuring you out. I figured you out a long time ago.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask. “You‘ve called me that before.”

“What’s what mean?”

“Rudo?”

He grins and pulls his gaze to the ceiling. “It’s just a word.”

“It’s one I haven’t heard before. Did you, like, make it up one day and decide you want to use it?” I laugh.

“Something like that.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to need a little more than that, Fent.”

“It fits you, I think. It’s seems to wrap up everything I know about you.”

“You don’t know a lot about me.”

“I know more than you think. Your eyes tell me everything.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm. Even from your picture, I could see what a naughty little girl you were behind that innocent little smile.” He taps my lips with the pad of his finger. I snap at it, capturing it between my teeth, and pull it into my mouth. I suck it gently before releasing it.

His eyes darken. “If you want round three, keep it up.”

“Give me a few minutes and it’s a go.”

He chuckles, rolling onto his back too.

“So what do my eyes tell you?” I scoff, wondering how he has me pegged.

“Well, they tell me that you’re very intelligent. They’re assessing, calculating. And you’re kind, but have a mean streak a mile wide at times.”

“Wow. You’re better at this than I thought,” I laugh.

“See?” He slips his arm behind my neck and jostles me closer to him. “Rudo. It fits you to a tee.”

I love the comfortable feeling between us, no weird vibes or awkwardness at all. We’re lying side by side in towels after a thorough f*cking, and it feels like I’ve known him my whole life.

He wants nothing from me but my time. He doesn’t push me and doesn’t corner me or give me lines that I know are complete bullshit. Everything with him is transparent and organic and that, in itself, is worth its weight in gold.

“You also have a great sense of humor. You like to think you’re the boss in your relationships.”

“Correction—I am the boss.”

“Not in this one.”

“Um, Fent. We aren’t in a relationship.”

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I’m not sure what he’s thinking or what that look is supposed to mean. I tighten my towel around my chest.

“True,” he admits.

“So tell me about you,” I say, shifting focus. I’m enjoying the lazy Sunday feel, even though it’s not Sunday, and I don’t want that to end. Seeing him so relaxed and carefree, especially after how he was a few hours ago, makes my heart sing. “What’s there to know?”

“Nothing, really. I’m pretty much a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of guy.”

“Well, I like what I see,” I whisper.

A long pause stretches between us until, finally, he rolls back onto his side. He strums down the length of my arm with his fingers, watching the goose bumps pop up in response. “I like watching you react to me like that.”

“How can I not? You know all the buttons to push. You make it impossible.”

He shrugs, an unconvincing smile sliding across his cheeks. “I thought you weren’t going to fall in love with me?”

I grab a pillow and smash him in the face. He catches it and throws it behind him, laughing.

“I’m not in love with you,” I laugh.

“Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! I’m just a woman that’s turned on by uber-sexy men. I mean, I’m sure women across the board react to you,” I giggle. “Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You’re smart. You’re charming.” I tap him on the end of his nose. “But even so, I’m not going to fall in love with you.”