Night with Sole Regret

TOUCH ME XXIII

When urgency began to build in his groin, he hastened his strokes, deepened them. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him close as he moaned in her ear and tried not to suffocate on the heart trying to force its way up his throat. Did she have any idea how affected he was by her? Did she want to know? It was too soon, he decided. He buried his face in her neck, churning his hips, wanting to be deeper, deeper inside her, so deep that he couldn’t find himself as a separate entity from her. He’d been denying his need for this for far too long. He wasn’t sure why he’d finally let go of his false desire for autonomy while in the arms of a woman, but letting her close felt so good. She would undoubtedly freak out if she knew what he was thinking. He groaned as his release finally found him, surprised when she came with him. Her fingertips dug into his back—not harshly as he’d asked of her earlier, but as if she were afraid of going under and he was the only thing she trusted to keep her head above water.

When his breath had calmed and his c**k had softened, he lifted his head. She smiled drowsily.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered.

He kissed her gently. “You’re beautiful.”

Reluctantly, he pulled free of her body. She winced. He probably should have removed his jewelry—she’d be sore in the morning. Hell, she was already sore, he could tell. He disposed of the spent condom and brought her a moist washcloth so she could clean up a bit and sleep more comfortably.

“Thank you,” she said, a beguiling blush staining her cheeks.

When she’d settled into her pillow, he switched off the light and climbed into bed beside her. He lay in the darkness wondering if she’d think him strange for wanting to snuggle up against her while he slept. It had been so long since he’d used a bed for sleeping with a woman that he felt uncertain. He knew what he wanted to do—he wanted to hold her close all night—but he wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate that level of intimacy.

He tensed when she rolled over, rested her head on his chest, and wrapped an arm around his waist. Then he smiled, breathed in the scent of her hair, and allowed himself to hold her close as he drifted to sleep.

The knock at the hotel door pulled Caitlyn from a deep sleep. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes, surprised by the brightness in the room. The door opened, a set of squeaky wheels approached, and the door shut again. She smelled soap—as if someone had recently showered—and a moment later, bacon.

“This will do nicely,” Owen said.

Caitlyn’s eyes flew open, and she grabbed for the sheet which she found tucked securely around her nude body.

“Thank you, sir,” and unfamiliar voice said. “If you need anything else, be sure to let us know.”

Caitlyn peered over a pillow to watch a server leave the room. Her eyes then landed on Owen, who was dipping his pinkie in pancake syrup and sampling it on his tongue.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, “but I was starving.” He looked over at her and offered her a smile. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning,” she croaked and then cleared her throat. “Good morning,” she said again. Wow, he looked good in the early morning light. His damp hair was scattered in disarray, and he’d had the decency to leave his shirt off after his shower, thank you, God.

So last night had really happened? Holy smokes, she’d bedded a hottie. More than once. She couldn’t help but flush and stare at him in complete awe and flush some more.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “There’s enough here for two. Or five.”

“Um, yeah, I guess so.” She attempted to sit up, and her muscles protested every motion.

Owen grinned knowingly. “Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”

“I’ve never had breakfast in bed,” she said.

“Never?”

She shook her head and watched him wheel the cart around the bed.

“No romantic breakfasts on your anniversary?”

“My ex-husband wasn’t the romantic type.”

“That’s too bad. Your mother didn’t feed you in bed when you were sick?”

“My mother isn’t really the nurturing kind. Did you get breakfast in bed when you were sick?”

“Yep. My mom is so nurturing it borders on smothering.”

“What’s her name?”

“Joan,” he said. “But I call her Mom for short. She’s an amazing woman.”

Caitlyn smiled and tilted her head. “Are you a mama’s boy, Owen Mitchell?”

His blue eyes met hers, and he grinned. “I can’t deny it. She requires it. My brother’s a mama’s boy too and he’s a bad-ass Marine, so don’t think I’m the only one.”

“You have a brother?”

“He’s currently stationed in Afghanistan. His name is Chad.” Owen glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “He should be calling soon, actually. It’s a call I can’t miss, so you’ll have to excuse me when I take it.”

“Of course,” she said. She wanted to ask about his brother, but wasn’t sure if talking about him would upset Owen. With Chad being stationed in a war zone, Owen must be constantly worried.

“So which part of my breakfast would you like?” he asked, nodding at the collection of plates and bowls on the cart.

“You ordered all of that for you?” There was more than enough for half a football team.

“Hey, I like to eat. That’s why I had to spend so much time at the gym this morning.”

He’d already been to the gym? Was the sun even up yet? She searched the bedside table for a clock.

“Wait?” she said. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Heat flooded her face. He really had worn her out.

“I got enough food for both of us. I never planned on eating everything. Tasting everything, yes, so whatever you pick, you have to share a little.”

“Let’s just share it all,” she suggested.

“Now, that’s a plan.” He pushed the cart up against the edge of the bed and sat on the mattress near her feet.

She scooted into a sitting position, wincing as the tenderness between her thighs registered. Holy mother of too much s*x in one night. She wasn’t sure if her body would ever be the same.

“It’s the piercing,” he said. “I knew I should have taken it out that last time.”

“Worth it,” she said breathlessly. “Totally worth it.”

“After you finish your breakfast in bed, I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

She gaped at him. It was one thing for him to say things like that to her at night when she was delirious with lust, but here in the light of day? She wasn’t sure if she could handle such naughty suggestions.

He chuckled. “You look scandalized, baby.”

She closed her mouth and ducked her head. “I think I came to my senses while I was asleep.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we? Coming to your senses is one kind of coming I don’t want you to experience while you’re with me.”

At a complete loss for words, she bit her lip to stifle a nervous giggle. After the intimacy they’d shared the night before, she was surprised she felt shy in his presence.

“You aren’t the only who will be walking funny today,” he said.

Her gaze darted to his ass. “Are you sore back there?”

He chuckled. “Nah. You took it real easy on me. I’m just trying to make you blush some more.”

Owen selected a strawberry from a bowl of fresh fruit and crawled up her body until their noses were inches apart.

“Taste,” he said, and he rubbed the strawberry over her lower lip. Her mouth watered, but she was pretty sure it was from being so close to him, not the anticipation of food.

Caitlyn bit into the fruit and got lost in his eyes. Such blue, blue eyes. The dark rims around the irises made them look even more striking. She chewed slowly, her pulse thrumming in her throat. She swallowed, still unable to pull her gaze from his.

“Taste,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her.

His mouth tasted minty. Caitlyn’s practical sense abandoned her once again as he deepened the kiss and reminded her why she’d not only had s*x with him, but spent the entire night pressed against his hard, warm body. He drew away slightly, and her eyelids fluttered open. Transfixed, she gazed into his eyes.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“In taste?”

“Oh.” Her face grew warm again. “It seems I’ve lost my senses again.”

“Good.” He fed her another bite of strawberry.

“And since you asked,” she said around the piece of fruit in her mouth, “I much prefer your taste.”

He reached for the food cart again and flicked something just under her nose. “Even more than bacon?”

She laughed and bit into the piece of crisp bacon. “Is there anything that tastes better than bacon?” she said with her mouth full. Her self-consciousness waned a bit with each passing moment. He had an uncanny ability to drive her to distraction in one breath and soothe her in the next.