Chapter 5
(Steel)
I hadn’t meant to wake up in Rebel’s bed with his body curled against my side, head on my shoulder, one arm draped across my chest as he snuggled with me, but I hadn’t set an alarm either, because I wasn’t on the clock until late in the afternoon. An uninterrupted night’s sleep was as rare a blessing as basking in the calm stillness of an early morning with a sex-ruffled man in my arms. Too bad I had to move and spoil the moment, but my bladder demanded attention, leaving me desperate to escape the clingy octopus that whined and squirmed each time I attempted to shimmy away from him.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, batting at his hands until he finally got the point, rolled over, and curled up with a pillow, grumbling “fine” in a pouty voice that suggested me moving was anything but fine in his eyes.
Scratch marks marred my arms and shoulders; easily hidden by the long-sleeved t-shirts I always wore when I was on duty. I was going to enjoy the feel of cloth rubbing over them later, reminding me of the night we’d shared. Him writhing beneath me was a sight that would never get old, not with the way he rolled his hips, dragging his body against mine, seeking friction even while I attempted to hold him still and torment him.
He still wasn’t ready to completely let me lead, but it wouldcome if we kept going the way we were. His need to surrender always came to the forefront when I growled a command in his ear, his body trembling as he processed the words before obeying them.
When I stepped back out of the bathroom, he was ready to take my place, already in a pair of basketball shorts with his hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. I knew it meant our time in bed was over.
The flood of disappointment that washed over me was unexpected, since I’d never been one to lie around in the morning, not when I had access to a pool or gym. There was just something about being with him that made me want to be lazy and curl around him in the sunbeam that streamed between the gap in the curtains.
“Do you have to go?” he asked when he emerged, “or do you have time to stick around for breakfast and coffee?"
“I can stick around,” I declared, some of the disappointment easing when he didn’t ask me to leave.
“Cool, there’s a room service menu around here somewhere,” he said as he started wandering the room in search of it.
“You mean this?” I asked as I plucked it from beneath the grim reaper hoodie he’d had on when I’d caught him in the bar the other night.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said as he picked up his guitar case and carried it over to the bed.
The clock said it was 7:16, a full hour and a quarter after I usually rolled out of bed. Yeah, I had to have slept well to have stayed in bed that long. It didn’t take much time to figure out what we wanted and call it in, Rebel’s request for a bottle of ketchup shocking me, considering all he’d ordered was eggs, fruit, bacon, and a muffin. He carried the guitar to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, drew it back, and stepped outside, where the sky was streaked with pink and gold hues and wispy white clouds.
I followed, vape in hand, once I’d located my jeans. I’d rather have been comfortable, the way he was, but sitting out there inboxer briefs wasn’t going to happen. If we were going to continue our evening trysts, and I hoped we would, I might have to start carrying a backpack with toiletries and a change of clothes when I met up with him.
“Do you always get up this early?” I asked, thinking about the late nights he kept.
“Sometimes earlier,” he replied. “I sleep better on the bus than I do in hotel rooms, which is backwards as fuck, but that’s typical for me. Last night, however, was an exception. The last thing I remember is you telling me to quit squirming when I was trying to get comfortable.”
“Thought you were gearing up for another round,” I admitted. “I’ve never been more grateful to hear someone snore.”
“Why?” he said, smirking at me over his guitar as he tuned it. “Didn’t think you could go another?”
“No, I knew I couldn’t,” I said, ego be damned.
If he’d rolled on top of me, I don’t think I could have gotten it up for him to ride me; I was that worn out.
“You wrecked me,” Rebel admitted. “I just wasn’t ready for you to stop touching me yet.”
I wouldn’t have taken him for a cuddler, but there was no denying that having him in my arms tripped all my triggers.
“We could have gone back to bed,” I offered, casting a glance over my shoulder into the room where the badly rumpled blankets sat as a reminder of the night before.
“Once I’m awake, I’m awake,” Rebel admitted. “Which sucks, because there are times when I wish I could sleep until noon like some of the guys.”
“I don’t see how you function on, what, five hours a night?”
“When I’m lucky. Most days I’m crashing out and taking a power nap when everyone else is eager to get moving. I love this time of day, though.”
He started picking at the strings, the song familiar, though it took me a moment to recognize that he was playingLong as I See the Light. I hummed along as he sang. Without a microphone and the crash of instruments accompanying him, his voice hada gentler quality, mellow with a hint of longing. The words crept over my skin with the morning breeze as he treated me to a private concert until our food arrived.
He returned his guitar to its case then but left it on the bed, open, like he fully intended to play more once he filled his belly. That was fine by me. I could sit there and listen to him play classic rock for the rest of the morning if that meant spending more time in his company.
“Ketchup on eggs?” I said as I watched him liberally coat them in the thick, red condiment, a big-ass grin on his face when he glanced over at me.