Right up until I suggest, “Do you want me to help you backdown the roof?”
He shakes his head. “No. Not ready for that yet. Might stay up here for a bit and go down later.”
“All right.” My heart thunders in my chest as his eyes find mine again, and if I could choose, this would be what I see before I close my eyes every night. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
He nods. “Okay, Cy, I’ll tell you.”
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I’ve slept soundly once more. The second is that I’m warm. Almost to the point of discomfort but also not nearly, because everything about this feels sogood.
The third thing I notice, in addition to being well rested and nicely warm, is that everything feelsheavy. Again, not in an unpleasant way, but certainly in a way that I can’t really move. A sensation that should be far more alarming than it is, and perhaps would be had I not cautiously cracked one eye open and seen…him. Well, part of him anyway.
Rather than making his way back down the roof last night, Aiden appears to have decided to stay put, apparently also deciding at some point during the night that I should too.
What I can seeandfeel is that his right arm is draped over my abdomen, his corresponding hand gripping my shirt around my chest as we both lie on our sides, his right leg similarly flung over both of my own to keep his body as close as he can get it. I don’teven need to see his face to know exactly where that is, too, the warm, steady current of his breathing brushing against the ends of my hair on my neck.
I’m afraid to breathe myself, afraid that even fully opening my eyes could wake him, make him realize that he is currently wrapped around me and, worse, make him stop, and that is thelastthing I want. Except…
Though I managed to stay still, Aiden is shifting, and I wonder again if it’s simply that he can feel my heart racing in my chest, can hear—
I bite back a quiet sound when the bridge of his nose brushes against my hairline, his whiskers scraping rough across my nape. He groans, the arm he has around me tightening and pulling me more firmly against him, and I…I was not wrong in my judgment of his size.
“Fuck’s sake,” I whisper, borrowing one of Aiden’s expressions as I debate my options. On one hand, I could pretend to be asleep, and in doing so also torment myself with how it feels to have him pressed up hard against me. Which isexceptionallytempting, since I have never been opposed to a little delayed gratification. However, I also know that if I allow this to progress, once Aiden does wake up and realize what he’s doing, he’s going to startle out of some misplaced sense of decorum. Potentially even to the point ofactuallyfalling off the roof, and then I really will have to go after him, because the idea of not having this again is going to make mewantto.
Which brings me to the other option I am not super enthused about but…does have the better chance of eventually achieving that delayed gratification, since we’ll both be alive.
I squeeze my eyes shut, take a deep breath in—an egregious mistake since all I can smell is his personal combination of campfire and leather—then move.
Not a lot. But enough to make it seem as if, while I’m not awakeyet, I’m about to be.
Behind me, I feel the moment Aiden stirs enough to notice, his whole body going extremely still while I continue to keep my eyes closed and my breathing slow. While I wait for him to pull away and dread the moment he will. Only, he doesn’t.
Aiden doesn’t move.
I know he’s awake. I can hear the way his own breathing has changed. But he still hasn’t moved.
“Cypress.” He says my name so softly I’m not entirely sure I really hear it, and I tell myself that’s my excuse for staying quiet before I feel him take another deep breath, only this time his forehead presses between my shoulder blades, the fabric of my shirt muffling the low groan that escapes his throat, and I can’t help it. I don’t even actively think about it before I push back against him in response.
We both tense now, neither of us moving apart even though his breathing hitches and grows shallower. “Cypress,” he repeats, deeper this time, more authoritative, his fingers bunching more firmly in the fabric of my shirt. “Is this…”
I nod, not knowing if he was going to ask me if this is okay or if this is something I want. Both of which I would say yes to without hesitation.
“This…” he begins again. His hand releases my shirt but thankfully shifts lower to grip my hip, his fingertips pressing in to keep me right where I am. “This is not a good idea. For a lot of reasons.”
“Really?” I say, fully dropping the pretense that I’m anything but wide awake. “None of them are currently occurring to me.”
He huffs out a laugh, his warm breath on my nape again. “We’re business partners.”
“Still can be,” I argue, finally letting my own hands roam, my right moving to cover his over my hip, our fingers interlocking, and my left reaching back to find those wavy curls I’m soinfatuated with. “In fact, one could argue we might be able to achieve a much deeper level of partnership this way. Think of how thrilling this could make our negotiations…”
He laughs once more, but the tail end of it shifts into something else when my fingers tangle in his hair and give a gentle tug. Not so different from how I’ve seen him do it so many times, although I would wager the effectisquite a bit different.
“We’re on the run,” he says, and I have to remember what it is we’re talking about because he chooses to shift his hips at that precise moment, subtly grinding himself against the curve of my ass. “We’re fugitives.”
“All the more reason…” I say, moaning when I become aware of the distinct scrape of teeth on my shoulder as he does it again. “Better take advantage while we can.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” He’s laughing, but only for a moment before I match his rhythm, before I lead the hand on my hip to where I really want him. My reward is the low, needy sound that leaves his throat when he feels the outline of me through my slacks. “What about…what about the fact that you already make me crazy?”
“Wolf,” I say with a chuckle. “I haven’t evenbegunto drive you crazy. But I will…” My hand is still over his as he continues to feel me, feel exactly how hard I am from this, how much this is affecting me, how muchheaffects me. “I will if you let me.”