I thought about that weird insistence on keeping her shirt on. What the hell was going on with her? Would she tell me now? Would this lead to us talking again? I hoped so, but deep down I doubted it.
Goddamn it.
I showered quickly after she got out, half-expecting her to be gone when I exited the shower, but no, she was curled up in the bed asleep. She looked so small and alone, like a little girl. I lay down next to her, pulled her to my chest and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck. With her warm body settled against me, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
I woke up at 3 a.m. disoriented, in the dark and with a headache threatening. Emilia’s breaths came in a long, slow rhythm, indicating that she was still asleep. Her bottom was pressed against my cock, which was hard as a rock. My subconscious must have woken me up, seeing this as a perfect time to get lucky. I pressed myself against her ass, enjoying the feel of her against me.
She wore her top, but she was naked from the waist down. And the baser, more animal part of me saw this as an opportunity to get while the getting was good. I gently rolled her onto her back, resisting the urge to put my hand up her shirt. I wanted her breasts in my hands so badly, to feel her nipples harden under my touch. But I had to respect her wishes, even though I burned to ignore them.
Instead I maneuvered my way between her legs, opening them wide enough for my shoulders. I kissed her hips, her thighs, the soft mound above her sex. Then I parted her and tasted her there, licking and sucking against her hot flesh. I loved the taste of her—more spicy than sweet. Like she was.
She didn’t move and hadn’t awoken. Normally she wasn’t the lightest of sleepers, but I suspected she slept even more deeply tonight because of the alcohol. Despite this, I could tell she was aroused. For one thing, she grew wetter under my attention and for another, she started emitting long, low moans in her sleep. She was loud, and the sound sent streaks of lightning straight down to my cock, which was more than eager to answer that call.
I listened carefully, sucking and licking her to her orgasm. When she came, she arched her back, letting out a loud shout.
“Adam,” she called in a hoarse voice. I smiled in satisfaction. So the lover she dreamed about was me. Thank God. And if I had anything to do with it—and I would—that would not change.
I wiped my face on the sheet and settled my hips between her thighs. She curled her long legs around me, running her hands down my chest and abdomen. “What the hell was that?” she murmured as I slowly entered her.
“That was a sleepgasm. You’re welcome,” I said, sealing my mouth over hers. For all that our previous time had been a hot, violent collision of our wills, this time was sweet, slow, languorous. She moved under me, her hips meeting me in a perfect rhythm. Her body was heaven under mine and I craved the feel of her naked breasts against my chest. But I tried not to think of what I couldn’t have and thought about what I did have. This exquisite woman in my arms, beneath me, for the last few hours of the dying evening.
I closed my eyes and felt, tasted, smelled and heard only her. For those long minutes in each other’s arms, she became my world, my anchor, my safe harbor. And then I was coming, and it was sweet and slow, just like our lovemaking. And I never wanted to see the end.
Chapter Sixteen
I woke up that morning to an economy-sized headache and an empty bed. With a sinking feeling, I felt around for Emilia, but she’d gone. Sometime earlier, she must have slipped out and done the walk of shame back to her own room. I rubbed my forehead and thought about that for a moment, my eyes closed, remembering the feel of her beneath me. It felt surreal—as if it had all happened in a dream. However, after throwing a glance through the open doorway to the rest of the suite, I spied her neglected little fairy wings still lying on the floor.
She’d been here. We’d been together. It hadn’t been a dream. But it might as well have been. I wanted her again and she was gone. And it wasn’t just a physical want. I wanted to wake her with a kiss, whisper to her, hold her, chat about the goings-on at the convention, laugh about the mishaps, mock people’s ridiculous behavior at the employee party. Instead I was left to fall from the bliss of a night of fantastic sex, of the tender lovemaking afterward, into loneliness again. I’d hoped, before I’d fallen back asleep, that our night together would be the beginning of something big, of change, of reconciliation.
Instead she was gone without even saying good-bye. My fist clenched in frustration as I glanced at the clock. It was still early, but today was the day we packed everything up, loaded the trucks and headed back to OC by bus.