Connected (Connections, #1)(64)

Entering the kitchen, I don’t see a coffee pot anywhere, so whether or not he has coffee is irrelevant. He actually has nothing in his kitchen. No food, no small appliances, not even silverware.

I stand in the doorway to the bedroom and look around at the blank canvas. It gives away nothing about the person River is. But I am not looking for it to do so; I already feel like I know him so well. Yesterday, I may have been a little taken aback by my surroundings and the whole LA feel, however, as I think about it now, I know that where River lives is not an indication of who he is. And besides, I actually love this house, especially the incredible view. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I actually . . . I dare not think it, not yet anyway.

As I watch him sleep so soundly, I can’t help but think about how the sound of River’s voice melts my insides, how his gaze makes me quiver, and how his touch drives me wild. Everything about him, about us, feels so right. These feelings I have are unknown to me. I’ve never felt them before, not even with Ben. Suddenly, guilt washes over me with the reality of this situation. The culpability is beaming through my mind like the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. What is the difference? Why are my feelings for River so much more explosive than they were for Ben?

Squinting my eyes while looking out the sheer covered glass doors, I try to squash the remorse I am feeling. I stare at the scenic view and try to think about River, the man I am enamored with now and not Ben, the man I loved for so long. But the guilt won’t stay at bay, and I’m racking my brain trying to remember if Ben ever made me feel the way River makes me feel. I can’t recall having the same feelings for Ben.

Breaking me free of those stray, unwanted thoughts and questions is the voice that liquefies my insides. “Good morning sexy girl,” he says, and I glance his way. Stretching and yawning, he looks ever so sexy himself. “Whatcha doing way over there?” he asks, holding his arms out for me to join him.

“Good morning yourself,” I respond, smiling while I walk toward him and almost jump into his arms. “I was looking for coffee.”

“Sorry, a pot is the first thing on my list.”

Grinning at me, he lightly kisses my nose, almost as if he’s kissing each freckle. He raises himself on one elbow. “Do you wake up early every morning?”

Laughing a little, I speak the honest truth, “I can’t sleep when the light shines in from outside.” I shift to face him. “My parents installed blackout blinds in my room when I was younger so I would stop waking them up at the crack of dawn.”

“Hmmm . . .” he sounds before adding, “So you’re saying if I want to wake up before you and watch you sleep we’ll have to get some heavy duty blinds?”

Chuckling at him and pointing out the window I abash, “River, no, that would ruin waking up to that stunning view.”

“Wouldn't ruin the stunning view I see when I wake up," he says while looking right at me and tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

God that’s what I’m talking about. Everything about him drives me wild. So grabbing him from behind the neck, I pull him toward me, kissing him hard. I rub my thumbs over his cheeks, continuing to clutch him to me. When I release him, he scans my body, now right next to his. A devilish grin appears on his face and I ask, “What’s that face?”

He runs his fingers down the buttons of the white shirt I am wearing, then follows with his mouth, tugging on the first button with his teeth. “Do you mean the ‘you’re wearing my underwear’ face?” he asks, moving to the second button and swishing his head back and forth as he does.

Laughing as his hair tickles my chest, I say, “Oh, I didn’t know people had a face for that.”

He lifts his head and narrows is glare at me. “People? Do people have faces for when their girl is wearing their underwear?”

“Well I love Pac-Man,” I say before realizing what he just said.

He winks at me adorably and says, “Really? You know how to play?”

“Of course I know how to play!”

“I think I’ll need to check that out,” he says as he checks me out, then says, “You look really hot in Pac-Man.”

Our laughter quiets down as his hand starts to trace the outline of the little yellow men located on my hip. He moves his head back up on the pillow next to mine. I immediately attach my mouth to his and suck on his top lip before slowly trailing kisses down his neck. “By the way . . . did you just call me your girl?”

“Yeah, I did.”

He’s staring at me with only truth in his eyes as he laughs again, tugging on the elastic band of his Pac-Man boxer shorts that I am wearing.

Kissing him again, all jesting is pushed aside. My kiss is full of want and need, and I make that quite apparent. He instantly groans, then rolls us so he’s now hovering over me.

Grinning mischievously at me, he says, “Dahlia, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but if we don’t get off this thing very soon, we may be here all day.” He pushes his hand down on the air mattress. “And I’m not sure it will hold up.”

Swallowing, I laugh a little. “The air mattress or you, River?”

“Watch yourself girlie, you don’t want to mess with me.”

“Well actually, I do, but first I need coffee so you’re in luck, we can’t stay in this room all day.”