Warmth radiates through my body and over my skin. The hotel curtains fight against the blaring sun but streaks of light filter in, waking me up. I'm not sure of the time or the place but everything about this moment is warm.
The body pressed up behind me is a reminder of what happened last night and I instinctively press backward. Mason is still asleep, his small snores blowing over my head.
I turn my body so I'm facing his bare chest. He's on his back and propped up a tiny bit to support his shoulder but his left arm threads behind my neck. I'm not sure how he comfortably slept like this all night but I'm not complaining. I'm not complaining about any of it.
I'd thought I'd wake up with immense regret at deciding to sleep with him last night, regret at making that leap. But I don't. I'm left with unanswered questions and a whole lot of unchecked feelings.
After we ate a real dinner last night, I could tell he didn't want to talk about his mom or really about anything.
So we didn't talk, not really at all.
We got lost in one another for hours, rolling over in the bed, touching, feeling grabbing. The both of us just not being able to get enough, as if we've been starving for the last four years and have finally entered a diner.
Being with him is not just a reminder of what I've lost but a reminder of a time when I was truly happy. My mother was alive, I was in college, and felt like I had a grip on my life. We were good, we were so good until we weren't.
I don't have an exact answer for what I want to happen when he wakes up and when we go home. I know I don't want to get hurt again but I've already forbade that decision. No matter what happens now I'll be hurt in the end. Because the reality is this, he'll have to go back to his team and his job and I'll be starting my life as a PA.
If we couldn't make it work four years ago I don't know how'd we make it work now.
I watch his chest move up and down with slow breaths and then watch as his eyelids open and squint at the incoming light.
"Morning," I whisper up at him.
He doesn't say anything but just smiles. A big open mouth smile, his eyes closing again in contentment. Like he's savoring the moment.
"What's with the smile?" I squeeze his side and he drops his left arm to my back to pull me in.
"Nothing. Just realized this isn't a dream. And you're really here." My chest burns at his words and I drop my head to his naked one.
He pulls me over him so my hips sit on top of his, and my legs straddle his sides. I feel his morning erection stir between my legs and he feels it too, gripping my sides and opening his eyes.
"Although I'm not sure how real you are, I might have to confirm." He teases, trailing his left hand up my side and under my shirt, not stopping until he reaches the curve beneath my breast.
I shiver.
"Trying to cop a feel so early, how desperate." I smile and lean down so my hands cradle his head.
He looks up at me, my hair falling over the both of us and I really look at him. His lazy smile and tired green eyes, the small scars on his skin from teenage acne. His morning stubble that I used to hate and he used to love to rub up against my cheek.
"I'm always desperate man around you, Del girl." His voice is quiet with sleep but his words send a shrill down my spine.
He doesn't move his hand from where it rests on my rib cage, fingers teasing the skin under my breast.
YOU ARE READING
I Wish You The Best
Romance"Forever was a simple promise before it became a difficult task" Your first love is always the hardest to let go of, which is why Delilah and Mason had promised each other that after college they'd make it work. Unfortunately for them both, their fo...
