Shine Not Burn(29)

And then, when he shouted loudly and pushed into me with several short, sharp strokes, I fell; I fell into the velvet darkness that was swirling around inside my head. The sensation was entirely welcome. With this man filling me and pleasing me with every inch of his body, I had no other option.

Time stood still as we took the thrilling ride to the very top and then coasted down to earth again. The clock only began to tick again when our orgasms had totally played out.

Our bodies had melded together; I could feel every inch of him, even as he lost some of his hardness. He collapsed on top of me and rested his face on the pillow next to my head.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, the small wisp of his breath tickling my ear.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to work properly yet.

He pushed into me just a little.

I yelped with the shock that went through me.

He chuckled. “A little sensitive?”

“A little,” I admitted, wondering if I should be ashamed about anything I’d done. I didn’t think so. Anything that felt this good couldn’t possibly be wrong.

Weird feelings rose up to smother me. My life plan felt really, really stupid and empty. This man would never fit into it, but now I wondered how I could ever go back to guys like Luke when I knew they could never make me feel this way.

Feeling his heavy body on mine, wallowing in the afterglow of the best sex I’d ever had, I questioned for the first time what the hell I was doing with my life. I tried to laugh at myself, having these thoughts during a one-night stand in Vegas, but the humor wouldn’t come. This was real. This connection with this cowboy wasn’t just a thing.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asked, sliding off to the side of me, his mostly limp cock sliding out of me and resting damply on my leg. He pulled the used condom off and put it on a piece of paper on the nightstand.

“Nothing. My brain isn’t working yet.” Hell-to-the no way was I going to tell him what was on my mind. He’d run for the hills and I’d never see him. Do I want to see him again? Yes. I think I do. No, I know I do.

“You’re lying,” he said, running a finger gently from my forehead to the end of my nose. “I can tell by the way you wrinkle up your little nose that you’re lying. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, so I’m Pinnocchio now?” I tried to play it off, distract him from trying to get inside my head, but he wasn’t falling for it.

“Please tell me.”

He sounded so sincere, it made my heart skip a beat. How could a guy that good in bed and this gorgeous be so nice? Doesn’t it defy the very laws of Nature? Maybe he was an evolutionary mutant. I turned my head, our faces only an inch or two apart. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because. I’m thinking lots of stuff too, and I’m wondering if you’re thinking the same thing.”

“You go first,” I said, my heart picking up its rhythm for some stupid reason. No way were we thinking the same thing. But wouldn’t it be cool if we were?

“Luceo non uro,” he said. “That’s what my dad always said.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, pretty sure that even though I was still pretty drunk, he wasn’t speaking English.

“It means that if I want to get lucky with you, I should just take the risk and tell you what’s on my mind, because failing would be worse than never trying.”

I grinned. “I’m pretty sure you already got lucky, but if you’re looking for kinky sex, you’re going to have to work to convince me it’s a good idea.” For him, I was pretty sure I’d do anything, but there was no way I was going to make it that easy by just telling him.

“It’s not about the sex,” he said, going all sober on me. “Well, okay, the sex might have been a little icing on the cake, but that’s not it.”

“You’re being very mysterious,” I said, now nervous as hell. I really liked this cowboy. Mack. But I didn’t know a single thing about him other than the fact that he doesn’t wear underwear and he’s got a big cock-a-doodle doo that he definitely knows how to use. Yee haw.

“I don’t mean to be mysterious. I guess I’m not as bold as I’d like to be sometimes. Thing is …” He paused and then rolled onto his back, resting his hands under his head. “…I have something on my mind, and I want to say it to you, even though I know it probably won’t make a difference and I’ll probably never see you again.”

The idea that we’d never be together again made me literally sick to my stomach, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t the alcohol, even though the bed was spinning with its effects. Really, really spinning.