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“Good.” Lifting his head, he steps back. “Now go; meet you in my room.”
Watching him go, I think about what he said, what he didn’t, and while I’m disappointed we aren’t moving our relationship to a more intimate level, I have to admit we’ve already gone there. And I’m not talking about getting off with our clothes on.
In the last week I’ve learned more about Granger than any other person in my life. I’ve been more myself with him than any time in the past. And he might want to wait to be physically intimate, but what we’ve done so far is deeper than any sex could be.
With a smile on my face, I turn and enter my room. I have no doubt that man is the love of my life. It’s not a conscious decision. It’s a bone deep knowledge. A soul deep need.
Granger might think we should go slow, and I’ll respect his choice, but I’ll do everything in my power to show him he can trust me with his heart.
Because he holds mine. I’m pretty sure he’s held it all along.
GRANGER
Six days.
A hundred and forty-four hours.
That’s how long it’s been since Brooke asked to share my bed. But who’s counting?
Me. I’m counting.
Because it’s been a hundred forty-four hours of struggling to keep my hands off her.
The wee hours of the morning are the worst.
She’s a bed hog. Or more accurately, her cold feet seek the nearest warm surface in her sleep.
I’ve spent every night lying awake waiting for her to wrap herself around me. How I’m functioning with so little sleep is a miracle, a blessing, and the snow has been a lifesaver. The storm hasn’t blow out. It’s been coming down for as long as I’ve been keeping my hands to myself.
But something has to give. I can’t keep going like this.
For a start my dick is raw. I’ve rubbed the thing so hard and often it’s permanently red. You’d think that much jerking off would bring relief. You’d be wrong. Not only is it red all the time, it’s also erect. Before, during, and after. Nothing makes it go down. Not even standing in the snow without pants.
Good thing Brooke didn’t catch me doing that. She’d think I’d lost my mind. Then again, maybe I have. Fuck knows the woman drives me crazy. Crazier for her than I was. It was my idea to wait, and for the life of me, I can’t remember why I thought that was a good idea.
My raw dick says it wasn’t.
My lack of sleep says it wasn’t.
My inability to think of anything but Brooke says it wasn’t.
I’m man enough to admit when I make a mistake but I’m loathe to voice my thoughts because Brooke is blossoming. She’s come out of her shell more than she already had, and made herself at home.
It’s like she’s always lived here.
Her clothes have started showing up in my closet. Her toothbrush is in the holder next to mine. Her bed hasn’t been slept in for days…
I glance around my bedroom. A small pile of jewelry sits in a little glass dish I’ve never seen before. Her pjs and mine are folded and placed neatly on our respective sides of the bed.
Fuck. We have sides!
The bedding smells like her. The room smells like her. The whole damn house smells like her.
It’s a losing battle. I know it. I’m not sure why I’m still waging it.
We’ve talked about what happened with her ex and I’m confident she doesn’t have any lingering mental hangups over the incident. I think I’m more traumatized by it than her.
Except today everything changes.
