Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(86)

“No. Easy.” Today was all about easy. This morning was going to be about easy. Because later today, we had to start figuring things out. We’d put it off too long.

Sofia moaned, half protest, half agreement. Her hardened nipples rubbed against my chest, sliding in the sheen of sweat across my pecks. Her heart was pounding, the rose flush creeping up her neck, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she came.

I pressed a kiss to her temple, then dragged my lips down her cheek, finding the corner of her mouth. I dropped one open-mouthed kiss there and continued down. Her hands were still intertwined in mine, her legs around my back.

We were threaded together.

I went back to the spot where I’d bitten earlier and latched on, tickling the teeth marks with my tongue. Then I thrust harder, giving her what she wanted.

“Oh god.” Her head thrashed on the pillow, her hair flying loose.

“Come.” I ordered it into her skin, already feeling her pussy clench around my cock. “Yes,” I groaned, letting her draw me out as she released. The pressure at the base of my spine spiked, my balls tightened. And I let go, coating her with me as the world disappeared.

I stayed inside her after we’d both come down, letting myself leak out between us. I let go of her hands to wrap her up while she dropped her fingers to my back, splaying them over my damp skin.

Her legs tightened, pulling my softening cock even deeper into her body. “This is the best part of my day.”

“Mine too.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing. Just feeling one another’s heartbeats echo in different rhythms. But eventually, the light streaming through the blinds forced us up and apart.

I got off the bed first, extending a hand to help Sofia to her feet. She leaned into me, kissing the skin over my heart, before walking on unsteady feet to the bathroom.

“Are you coming to work with me today?” I asked, trailing behind her.

She nodded. “You don’t have to go until three, right?”

“Yeah.” I’d been back to my normal schedule this week, covering most of the nights at the bar. It was a schedule I’d always liked, having my mornings free for whatever I needed to do. But it was dragging on Sofia.

She’d work here during the day, trying to keep up with everything at the dance studio, then would come to work and hang out with me until we closed. The bar had been quiet, so we’d been able to close down well before two each night. But it was still late, and she was trying to manage two different time zones.

“You don’t have to. You could stay here. Go to bed early.”

She shook her head as she turned on the shower then smiled over her shoulder. “I want to stay with you.”

She hadn’t left my side in two weeks.

Dad’s death had rocked me off my footing. I wasn’t sure I’d ever completely recover, but there was no going back. I couldn’t change what had happened. Would I regret where things had ended? Always. It was a weight I’d carry until my last day.

But I was okay.

“I’m okay, babe.”

“I still want to be with you.” She stepped into the shower, tipping her head back into the stream. Water ran down her nose and soaked her hair.

I got in beside her, waiting as she swiped the water from her face and spun so we could trade places.

Since she’d been here, Sofia and I had found this routine where we got ready together.

We’d shower together, a dance so easy and fluid it was like we’d never showered apart. She’d wet her hair. I’d wet and shampoo mine while she squirted body wash on a shower puff. She’d shampoo her hair while I scrubbed. Then she’d put in some conditioner and let it soak while she washed.

I’d get out first, go to the sink to shave and brush my teeth. It was perfectly timed so that when she was ready to get out, I’d be done. I’d hand her two towels, one for her body and another for her hair.

She’d take my place at the sink, working on her hair and makeup while I got dressed.

When I looked into the future, trying to picture a life with this woman, all I saw was that black box. I couldn’t picture us living together or getting married or having children.

The only thing I could make out was this morning routine.

It was something.

But not enough.

“I’ll bring you some coffee.” I kissed her bare shoulder then went into the bedroom to get dressed.

I pulled on some jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then replayed the questions Mom had asked me two weeks ago.

Will you get married? Will you move away? Will you have children?

Mom’s questions had been loaded with dread. My own mother was disappointed in me for finding a woman I loved. A woman with a good family, with an education, with a career and dreams.

A woman who could give her beautiful grandchildren she didn’t seem to want. Dad had helped teach me percentages in grade school by using blood quantum analogies. It was so ingrained in our household, I understood Mom’s disappointment. I didn’t agree with it, but I understood.

It was madness.

“Goddamn madness,” I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on some socks.

“What did you say?” Sofia poked her head out of the bathroom, her pink toothbrush in one hand.

“Nothing.” I shook my head.