Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)(46)

Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a choice between anything. No, it wasn’t a choice between the logical and the romantic, and it wasn’t a choice between my head and my heart. It was a choice for my spirit; for all the things that make me . . .me. I loved Bo Cavanaugh. I realized I needed to tell my boss about my relationship with Bo - before the Concord trip.

I was, therefore, choosing Bo. Choosing Bo and me. Choosing us. My soul smiled and hugged me. Thank you.

I turned off the shower, briskly dried my hair, and walked into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around me, startled to find Bo sitting on my bed still looking a bit conflicted.

“Better?” He asked.

“So much,” I replied. “You ok?” I sat next to him, towel still wrapped around me.

“I have a confession to make.” He grinded his palms on the tops of his thighs.

“OK?” My heart rate rose slightly as Adrian’s words of caution bubbled to the surface of my brain.

“Wait. Can I ask you something first?” I continued, not waiting for a reply, “What did you do last night after Adrian took me and Monica home?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you walk back in to the bar. And, now, you’re wearing the same clothes,” I said, passively grabbing his shirtsleeve.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” His tone was level, if not slightly calculating.

A million possibilities flew through my mind. Actually, only one did; maybe he went home with someone else. If he did, would I be mad? Would I have a right to be mad? We’ve never seriously discussed a relationship between the two of us, as such. No, you’ve only talked about a thousand lifetimes and shocking me to life.

“Last night, after you left, I did go back into the bar; but that was only to prevent myself from chasing after you like a fool.” He smirked to himself.

“As soon as I saw Turner’s car pull away, I drove to your place. I was going to wait for him to leave and then come see if you were OK. You must have called me when you were at Monica’s place, because I was in front of your apartment and you weren’t there.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up his hand. “I waited in the lot across the street to make sure he brought you home, as he said he would. Yea, I felt a bit like a stalker, but he’s fast with women - that much I do know-and I was worried about you. When you got to your place and I saw you stumble again, I nearly jumped out of my car. But, I saw that he was being kind to you, and I just wanted him to get you inside and then leave. He didn’t leave. I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . .” Bo drew this out for affect, his voice constricting around the words. He looked up at me, apparently awaiting a reaction. It finally dawned on me.

“You were out there all night . . .” I whispered.

“I knew how drunk you were. I didn’t know if he’d . . .” Bo looked out the window, unable to verbalize his fears.

“That’s how you arrived just after Adrian left, impeccable timing.” I smiled.

“You’re not mad?” His brow creased.

“Mad?! Bo, that’s f*cking romantic. How did Adrian look when he left this morning?” I wanted to know if my brutal rebuffing of him had any visual effect.

“Completely deflated.” A boyish grin took over his face.

Jackpot.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I grabbed Bo’s face and pulled him down for the most healing, soul reviving kiss I had in me. He responded by pinning me on the bed, one arm still hooked around my waist. I fisted his hair, eliciting a moan from his throat. He released his arm from under me, running his hands roughly through my wet hair. I grabbed him through his jeans causing him to hiss in anticipation. I started undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one; Bo sat up and pulled the shirt off over his head. His eyes were smoldering.

Without saying a word, Bo opened my towel and pulled it out from under me, tossing it - and last night - to the floor. His hand sculpted over every curve of my body; I was his. I deftly undid his belt and pants with seduction playing across my lips, silently begging him for more. He kicked his jeans to the floor as my hips grinded against him.

“Mmm,” he moaned in to my neck, assaulting it with delicious kisses.

I rolled over and sat astride him, planting my lips on his earlobe and tracing them down his body to his navel. In one quick movement, I was suddenly underneath him once more. I squealed like a child about to open birthday presents. I grabbed him and reached for a condom from my bedside stand.

“No,” he flashed a wicked grin, “this one’s on me.” He pulled a condom from his pants pocket on the floor.

He slowly and deliberately rolled the condom on; an anticipatory moan escaped me as I watched him. Gently, he parted my knees and positioned himself between them. I was breathless as his hands stalked up the sides of my body on the mattress. It was all I could do not to beg him to enter me; thankfully I didn’t have to wait. He sank slowly and beautifully into me as we let out simultaneous sighs of relief. I couldn’t justify why we’d only done this once before.

Our rhythms quickly synched, and I was meeting him every step of the way. He slowed down for a moment, pulling back slightly to look at me. My forehead crinkled inquisitively.

“You are so damn beautiful.” He shook his head as if he was trying to rationalize it.