One Week Girlfriend (One Week Girlfriend, #1)(34)

Love’s tendrils round the heart doth twine, as round the oak doth cling the vine. – Ardelia Cotton Barton



Drew



We’re in my bed, Fable wrapped all around me, the both of us completely naked yet not touching in any sort of sexual way beyond being plastered together. We fell asleep like this. She’s still asleep, though I’ve been lying here wide awake for at least an hour, my mind racing with the possibilities having her in my arms offered.

She refused to budge after I had a complete breakdown and tried my hardest to push her away. I had to admire her for that, no matter how much I didn’t want her there during such a humiliating moment. Seeing me like that, all broken and dizzy and so screwed up, I must’ve looked like an idiot to her. At the very least, a big ol’ * who can’t handle anything sexual—shit, the rumors she could start with that knowledge alone would ruin me forever.

But she didn’t bat an eyelash. Just continued to talk to me in that calm, sweet voice of hers until I had no choice but to give in. She then shoved me into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, completely immodest without her top on, leaving me mesmerized by the sight of her bare breasts as she bent over me and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Despite my panicking when she said my full name—that reminder of my past is still too hard to shake I guess—I wanted her close. I wanted to feel her against me, knowing she would bring me comfort.

Torturing me too, but I could deal with it.

So when she tried to leave, I grabbed her hand and asked her to stay. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts and my memories. I saw the reluctance in her gaze but she stayed anyway, shedding her wet clothes completely, the sight of her beautiful slender body in all its naked glory leaving my mouth dry.

She climbed into my bed and I pulled her close. Held her to me, her back to my front as we fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling outside. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so content, having this warm, beautiful girl so close in my arms, skin on skin, our breathing in sync, my hands resting on her soft belly.

Waking up flat on my back with her sprawled all over me, her fragrant, still-damp hair in my face, I thought I was dreaming, she felt that good. But then I realized it’s all too real and I didn’t move for fear of disturbing her and causing her to leave me.

At this very moment, I don’t want her away from me ever.

Carefully I run my fingers through her hair, smoothing it out, holding my breath. She snuggles closer, her face pressed against my chest, her lips brushing my skin, making me instantly hard. The rain is still falling outside, the room’s completely shrouded in darkness and I can see nothing. Only feel.

I haven’t felt anything in years.

She wakes slowly, I knew the moment it happened, how her breathing changes, the way she starts to withdraw from me. I clamp my arms around her and hold her close, not saying a word for fear I’d f*ck up and blurt out something stupid.

Instead of trying to pull away, she lifts her head and nuzzles closer, her mouth against my neck. She kisses me there, slowly, softly and tingles wash over my entire body at the sensation, making me shiver. I swore I feel her smile and I clamp my arm tight around her waist, splaying my fingers wide so I can touch as much bare skin as possible.

I don’t know exactly what I’m doing or what I’m trying to accomplish, but I know that I can handle this. In the dark, with Fable. No memories haunting me, completely in this moment. Fable in my arms, her long hair brushing against my skin, her warm breath in my ear. She sinks her teeth into the tender flesh of my earlobe and I flinch, a huff of breath escaping me that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

“Ticklish?” she whispers and I nod, still scared to say anything, savoring the sound of her sweet, sweet voice washing over me. I’ve never laughed during sex before. It’s never something I considered particularly funny. More like a means to an end…

Or a shameful, guilt-ridden secret.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” she whispers as she slides over so she’s completely on top of me. The thick comforter is still covering our bodies and her warmth seeps into mine, cocooning us in our own little private haven.

“You can’t even see me.” I’m surprised at how good her compliment makes me feel.

“Oh, I saw you. And I can feel you.” Her hands are everywhere, searching me. Arousing me. “You’re all muscle, Drew Callahan. There’s not an ounce of fat on you.” I can hear the amusement in her voice and I know she’s enjoying teasing me.

“That’s probably not true.” I choke on the last word when she slides her naked body down, then off me so she’s lying on her side right next to me. She trails her hand down my chest, along my abs, her fingers gently gliding over my stomach, making it tremble. I am rock hard and aching with it and I refuse to ask her for anything more than she’s willing to give.

I’m scared. Fucking scared to have sex for fear I’ll ruin everything and flip out again. Or worse, have all those memories come tumbling down on me and I won’t be able to deal.

What’s happened to me in my past has shaded my entire life. Ruined it. I’m tired of letting it rule me.

So. Fucking. Tired.

Her hand skitters away from my cock and I breathe a sigh of relief—and agony. I’d give anything to have her hands on me. Feeling the overwhelming need to connect with her, I cup her cheek with my palm and tilt her head up, kissing her fiercely. No gentle, sweet kisses this time. I devour her, drink from her lips, suck on her tongue and she does the same. Our hands are everywhere, mapping each other’s bodies, moving into more intimate territory with every stroke of our fingers and then I feel her tentative grip on me. Her hand is shaking and my entire body is shaking.