"I'm going to give you a massage." He pulls down the blankets on the bed. "I think you've earned it. I just have one request."
I smile. "Oh?"
James stands in front of me, our faces close. "I've imagined you naked in my bed, and there are few things I want more than to see it."
I lean forward and kiss him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I think that can be arranged." I breathe against his lips. Peeling my t-shirt over my head, I let him unclasp my bra and toss it away. James sinks to his knees and then my pants are gone. He leans forward as if to touch me, but I move away, instead crawling across his bed.
His sheets are dark and soft, and I drape myself across them. I turn to look at him and the heat in his eyes is palpable as he takes in the sight of me. I follow his gaze as it moves along every inch of my body, and the pull in my core suddenly makes me think I might want the sex to be sooner instead of later. "Is this what you imagined?" I ask him.
"Much better," he says, and his voice is hoarse. I don't have to look at his pants to know that he's hard. He clears his throat. "Time for your massage."
"I have a request too," I say, making him pause. "I never want to see you in that blue polo shirt ever again."
His smile is slow and sexy. "I think that can be arranged," he says, pulling the shirt up over his head and tossing it in a corner. The morning light hits his body, highlighting every line. The longer I stare, the more I understand what people mean when they say breathtaking.
James grabs a bottle of lotion from the top of his dresser, reminding me of the last time he did that, heat flooding closer to my core. "I'm rethinking the ‘no sex' now," I say.
He laughs. "You're still exhausted, and in a couple minutes you're going to feel it again." He climbs onto the bed with me, turning me over so my back is exposed.
"I'm sure I could stay awake for it," I mumble into the pillow.
The lotion is cool on my skin, and the movement of James's hands quickly warms it. His fingers move across my back, strong and slow. He starts at my shoulders, dragging down all the way to my ass and back up, working my skin with his palms. I hate to admit that he's right, but my exhaustion comes back full force as my body starts relaxing under his hands. He starts a slow path down one side of me, pressing deeply into my muscles.
"You're very good at this," I say, though I'm not sure it came out as coherent.
"Thank you."
I lose myself in the feel of his fingers, and slowly every part of me relaxes. With each stroke of his hand the world falls out from under me, and soon I drift off into sleep.
It's James's voice that brings me back to consciousness, but he's not talking to me. His voice is hushed.
"That's good," he says. "I'm really glad to hear that."
Through the fog I realize that he's talking on the phone. It's funny to me, I never imagined him talking on the phone because we have yet to do that with each other. It hasn't exactly been necessary with him showing up at my house every day.
"Something came up, and it's important. But tell him hello for me. I'll be sure to drop by sometime next week. Will he still be at St. Mary's?"
A silence.
"When does he come home then?"
I work on opening my eyes. I'm still draped across the bed, the windows now showing the light of late afternoon. I'm covered with a blanket now, but still naked. James's voice comes from behind me.
"Good. Listen, there's a little bit of a mess in the back corner of the Caldwell residence. I'm sorry about that-I left the wheelbarrow and some tools out there. I'll text you a list of what I think I left."
He laughs softly. "Yeah, it has a bit to do with that." He listens for a moment. When he speaks again his voice softens. "No. I promise that it's good. It's a very good thing."
I can hear the smile in his voice. "All right. Keep me posted, and I'll give you a heads up when I'm going to come by. Take care."
There's a soft tap of his finger against the screen as he hangs up and I hear him set his phone on the nightstand. I stretch, my muscles feeling amazing from the work he did on them. Rolling over to face him, I ask, "Who was that?"
James smiles at me, a brilliant smile that tells me he's happy I'm awake. He drags me across the bed and pulls me against his body. "That was Mike," he says.
"Ah, the infamous Mike," I say. "I'm so happy Mike happened to need this week off."
"Thank god for Mike," he agrees, and kisses me. He smoothes an arm down my back, pressing me harder against him as he traces my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth for him, and he plunges into me, reminding me of all the other things he's done and has yet to do with his tongue. God, I could live forever in his kisses.
I pull away for a breath. "Were you supposed to see him tonight?"
He raises an eyebrow. "I'm hoping you weren't actually thinking about Mike during that kiss."
"No," I say, blushing, "but I don't want to keep you from seeing your friends."
James runs a hand along my side, and I suddenly have goosebumps. "It wasn't anything official. I said I might stop by the hospital."
It clicks in my brain, then. "You said his dad was having surgery."
"It was successful. Mike's been a good friend for a long time, so I know his family. I figured I'd stop by and say hi." He laughs. "Mike says his dad's grumpy as hell."
"We can go," I say.
"It's all right. He's staying in the hospital for a few more days. Right now I just want to make sure you're okay."
I make a face. "I'm not made of glass. I'm upset, but it was just an argument. I'll survive."
"An argument where your dad threatened to disown you."
"Still," I say softly, "it's only words. There are worse problems to have."
He looks at me for a moment. "If you really want to go, a visit might cheer him up."
"Then let's go. I really mean it."
"Okay," he agrees. I try to roll off the bed and he stops me. "That is, if I can stand to let you out of this bed when you look like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you just woke up naked in my bed," he says, rolling over me and pressing me into the mattress. It feels so good I let out a long sigh.
"I did just do that," I admit.
"I know," he whispers, mouth against my neck. "And I can only imagine what you're going to look like when you wake up in my bed after you've been thoroughly fucked."
My breath is suddenly shallow, and I feel my pussy get wet at the thought. I wrap my legs around his hips and he grinds against me. The fabric of his jeans is rough against my clit, and the grind of it has me gasping already. His mouth slides along my neck, leaving a trail of tingles behind from the heat of his lips and tongue. It's not enough. I pull his face back to mine as he thrusts against me again, and I groan into his mouth. The muscles of his back are hard under my hands and I can feel the hardness straining in his jeans.
I force myself away from his lips, trying to gather enough breath for speech. "If we don't stop, we both know that we won't leave this bed."
There's a wicked gleam in his eye. "That sounds like a challenge."
"Let me up." My attempts at a stern face dissolve into a smile. "I want to see Mike."
He groans, but he does let me up. I find my suitcase by the wall and dig through it for some clothes. I'm opting for casual again, since that's pretty much what I brought. I get dressed quickly and grab my makeup bag, determined to make myself look like I didn't sleep for half the day.
James pulls a shirt from his closet-a thin long sleeve shirt that clings to his body and makes me stare so long that he notices. He pushes up the sleeves while I'm watching and it just makes the look so much better.
"You're staring," he says.
"Guilty," I grin. I force myself back to the mirror. "It's just so much better than the polo shirt."
He cracks up laughing behind me.
I finish getting ready and within a few minutes we're back in the car and on our way. "Should we bring something?" I ask. "Maybe cookies?"
"That's a nice thought," James says, "but I don't think that we should bring cookies to a man who just had heart surgery."
"Fair point."
We pull up to St. Mary's hospital, and I find myself suddenly nervous. It's clear that Mike and his family mean a lot to James, and I don't want to embarrass him. Maybe he was right-maybe we shouldn't have come. But it's too late to turn back now.
James takes my hand as we walk into the hospital. It strikes me how much I like something as simple as walking hand in hand. I don't know that I've ever had that with another boyfriend. If I did, the feeling wasn't nearly as natural.