Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(44)
“Mmm, that sounds nice.”
“How about this weekend? We could rent movies and stay in bed all day.”
I peer up at him and imagine spending two whole days naked with Killian and nod frantically.
He laughs low and throaty, the vibration of it against my skin awakening my desire. “Good. Now, I have an econ quiz in an hour and fifteen minutes, so as much as I’d love to move this morning along slowly, I’m afraid I can’t.”
I sigh and press my cheek to his chest. “I have to get my car and get home too. I have a ten-thirty class.”
His hands run up and down my back in lazy strokes. “I’ll hop in the shower; you get dressed. I’ll drop you at your car on my way to class.”
I run my lips along his pec, the feel like velvet over steel against my mouth. “Deal.”
“We break on three. One…” He squeezes me tighter. “Two…” He kisses my head. “Three!” He slaps my ass, and I yelp as he jumps out of bed and dashes to the bathroom.
It suddenly hits me that I’m going to be seeing him between classes today, and the excitement of being seen together makes my stomach flip. I roll to my back and press my palm to my belly. “Calm down, Axelle,” I whisper to myself. “This is nothing to make yourself sick over.”
The shower turns on, and I contemplate heading in there to offer Killian some assistance, but decide that would only make us both late for class. As seriously as he takes his studies, it would be bitchy of me to interfere with his perfect GPA.
So I drag my ass out of bed and pull on the UFL shirt of Kill’s I wore last night before he stripped it off me. I bite my lip as memories flood in, his big body moving above me, within me, consuming me. A ripple of need flip-flops in my belly, and the thought that I was his first makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
I tug on my pants from last night, pull a ponytail holder from my purse, and finger-comb my hair into a messy bun. When the shower turns off, I’m making the bed, and when Killian strolls out wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, my mouth goes dry.
He seems totally oblivious to my gawking as he digs through his closet, pulling out clothes and tossing them to the bed. Droplets of water hang to the ends of his chocolate brown hair, some falling loose and gliding down his muscled back. His skin is tan from hours in the sun, unblemished and soft to the touch.
I cross to him and sneak up from behind, wrapping my arms around him and gripping the towel at his waist. “Can I help?”
He sucks in a breath and drops his head forward. “Whatever you want.”
I know we’re pressed for time, so I can’t do whatever I want, but I can satisfy some of my craving for him.
I pull the towel from his hips and toss it to the floor. His breathing speeds up. His skin is hot and smells like spicy man soap. I run my nose along his back, inhaling deep, and he shivers. I allow my hands to explore his rippled abdomen, which flexes under my touch. As much as I want to go lower, I know that will put us right back in bed, so I hold him to me, pressing my chest to his back. His hands come to mine in a silent acceptance, and for a moment, we just stand there until our breath is synchronized.
Reluctantly, I let go and step around him, my gaze drawn to the powerful erection standing proudly between his legs. I swallow hard and walk him back to the bed. He drops to sit, a mix of interest and excitement on his face.
“Don’t worry. I know we have to get going.” I reach for the clean boxer briefs he tossed to the bed and kneel between his feet then slide the soft cotton up his legs to his thighs. Sexual tension strings tightly between us as I reach for his shorts and do the same, the simple act of dressing him somehow just as erotic as undressing him. Finally, I grab his shirt and slide it over his head. He closes his eyes as if he’s absorbing the tenderness of being taken care of.
“Stand up.” I’m surprised how much my voice shakes, giving away my nerves. It’s just…this is Killian, my Killian.
He complies and I pull his boxer briefs and shorts up, blushing when I struggle to tuck all that is him behind his clothes. I drag his zipper up slowly, and when he’s finally dressed, he pulls me into a hug so tight it takes my breath away.
“Thank you. Never thought having you put my clothes on would be that hot.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” My cheeks heat, and I’m glad he can’t see my face as I’m sure it’s embarrassingly red. “You take such good care of me; you deserve to be taken care of too.”
He rubs my back reassuringly. “I appreciate that, Ax, but I do that because I want to. Don’t feel like you owe me shit.”
But I do. I owe him more than I could repay in a lifetime. “We better get going.” I pull away and read what’s written on his shirt. “What’s The Overlook Hotel?”
He plucks at it with his long thick fingers, looking down at it, then swings an amused gaze back to me. “Seriously? You don’t know?”
“If I knew, why would I ask?”
“The Shining?”
“The movie?”
He rolls his eyes and steps close, tugging my messy bun back so my mouth lifts to his. He kisses me softly, his peppermint breath ghosting against my lips. “No, baby, not the movie. The book. Stephen King?” Another kiss and he whispers, “I’ll read it to you if you want.”