153
“Baby, no!” Jake’s disappointed voice breaks into my sleepy state. “I had plans for you.” His voice is husky and thick, but I’m too tired to open my eyes.
“I’m exhausted,” I sigh, enjoying his hands on my face and his body's heavy weight on top of me. He smells good, a little too good.
“You’re such a lightweight, Bambina. I’m going to have to build your stamina up.” He kisses me on the forehead and rolls off me. “I’m going down to the gym with Daniel to expel some excess tension, seeing as you’re out of order. We’ll talk tomorrow about Leila, okay?” he murmurs, a finger stroking my cheek. He’s watching me with appreciation as I attempt to open one eye and focus on his gorgeous face inches above me. “We’ll be an hour or two. He’s spending the night. Sleep, Bambina.” He leans down, kisses me on the mouth again, and leaves me to get the first decent night’s sleep since I was pulled into his arms on that dance floor.
* * *
I wake up alone in the huge bed, but Jake’s side is messed up as though he’s been here. I glance at the clock on his side; it’s early, not even 6.00 a.m. yet. I vaguely remember him telling me that he needed to get back into his routine, early morning jogging and gym, now that we’re home. It seems that having me in his bed means he no longer drags me out to run like he used to; he’s neglected it since we’ve been together. Not that he needs it with all the extra activity lately; I certainly don’t. I roll over to his side and inhale his pillow. The whole bed smells of him, his aftershave, and his personal scent, which is more comforting than any other smell. I wrap my arms around his pillow, sigh heavily, and fall back asleep.
I wake again with the alarm at seven and hear him in the shower; it sounds like he’s singing, and I stifle a giggle. I close my eyes and listen intently. He’s surprisingly melodic.
Actually, he’s more than melodic. Jake has a sexy singing voice. I’m more than impressed.
I’m swooning at this incredible talent he has. He sounds like a singer from a band I was obsessed with in my teens, husky yet boyish. He could easily pull off soft rock with a voice like that. Desire overtakes me, and I slide out of bed and pad into the open bathroom; I strip off and slide into the shower behind him. He senses my approach, stops singing, and turns, catching me and pulling me under the jets with him.
“She’s awake!” He kisses me, wet-faced and smelling of his familiar citrus shower gel.
“Barely. That sexy voice called me through here.” I wrap my arms around his neck as he maneuvers me under the water and starts running his fingers through my hair, soaking it and letting it trail down my neck. He picks up the shampoo bottle.
“My irresistible singing in the shower had your heart all aflutter, did it?” He dollops the shampoo in his hand and massages it roughly into my hair and scalp.
“Maybe. Calm the hands, Carrero; you’re not washing a dog.” I put my hands over his to slow down and ease his motion, helping him wash my hair. We stand for a moment while my hair is rinsed clean, his eyes flickering up and down my full length. I pause to reach for my shower gel, and he stops my hand.
“After …” He gives me a naughty look I’ve come to know so well, then knocks the breath out of me with his mouth against mine. In seconds he hoists me up to straddle him around the waist and pushes me back against the cold, tiled wall behind me. Deepening his kiss, his arms around me tightly, he grinds against me with a fever that overtakes us within seconds. My body never fails to react to this man.
“Do we still need a condom?” he asks gruffly, hands holding me up, and I shake my head. He remembered. I’d begun oral contraception before heading out on the yacht with him, the doctor assuring me we should be okay to stop with condoms after two weeks, which would be today.
It feels amazing to no longer have anything between us, just skin-on-skin. He makes love to me up against the tiles, slow and deliberate. His mouth explores me and brings me to dizzying heights effortlessly as we savor the new sensation. Water continues to pour overhead, the noise muffling out my moans and cries.
* * *
On my own feet, I lean back against his body as he washes me. I am completely relaxed, my body tingling and my breathing labored. He bends down and kisses my shoulder and neck as he strokes and lathers my skin, his hands massaging me seductively. I could lie back and fall asleep this way; he has no idea how much I trust him, how soothing his touch is. I could curl naked around him and let him do whatever he wanted to me for an eternity without any fear or doubts.
“Baby?” he breathes softly behind me as his hands come down over my shoulders and back, softly massaging the soap into me with confident strokes, tracing patterns with his fingers across my skin.
“Mmm-hmm,” I hum, completely mesmerized by his hands.
“After you went to bed, I got a call. I need to go to LA tonight. We’re finally sitting down with the lawyers tomorrow; Marissa’s agreed to some of the terms I laid out.” His tone is wary, and I stiffen. “I want you to come with me.”
I close my eyes and shake my head impulsively. If he’s going to see her, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit in a hotel twiddling my thumbs or pacing around, waiting for him to return. I could be here at work or with Sarah. Not obsessing over the two of them sitting across a table talking about a linked future with their child. The thought makes me feel sick.
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