His amused smile spreads to his eyes, softening them as he drops his head back against the headboard. His slightly-tanned chest heaves with two deep breaths. “Next time I sneak into your room, you’ll be grinding that pussy against my face.”

Sweet Lord. I clench my thighs against his, feeling like I could come again just from that declaration. “Did you love going down on girls back then, too?” I ask, shifting off his lap. I know he hates these types of questions, but I ask anyway. I can’t help that I’m curious with everything involving Reese.

He stands and slips off his boxers, bunching them up in his hand and wiping himself off. He shakes his head before replying. “I would’ve loved going down on you. It’s the way you react to me, Dylan. The way you taste. That’s why I love doing it.” He tosses his boxers into the hamper, looking back at me. “Good answer?”

I nod and reach out for him. “Great answer. Come back to bed.”

“Hungry. You want some Chinese? I got those egg rolls you like.”

I grunt and plop down sideways onto the bed, resting my head on my hand. “Can’t. I’m on a strict no-good-food diet until Saturday. I can’t even taste-test my treats.”

“What? Why?”

I watch his bare ass walk into the kitchen, appreciating the angle I’m currently in that’s giving me this amazing view. I sigh before responding. “Because my dress was a little snug on me tonight. The seamstress said it’s probably because of the booze over the weekend.” I tug at the hem of my tank top, covering my hip. “That goddamn champagne is ruining my life. I’m never drinking that stuff again.” I glance up as he returns to the bed, carrying a bowl and munching on an egg roll. “You suck. Guys can eat whatever they want and not have to worry about buttoning a lace bodice.”

He shrugs before sitting down on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t know why you have to worry about it. That dress isn’t going to be on you long.”

I sit up and leer at him. “It’ll be on me long enough. I can’t have it gaped open in the back. Everyone will see my present to you.”

His eyes fill with curious wonder. “Your present to me? And what would that be?”

I roll off the bed and pull my tank top off. “Not telling. It’s a wedding day surprise.” I toss it into the hamper and walk to the bathroom to take care of my nightly routine. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I reemerge and find Reese putting his dish in the sink. “You ready for bed?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m fucking beat.” He rounds the counter and brushes past me, slapping me on the ass before he steps into the bathroom.

I crawl under the covers, laying on the side I always occupy and facing my one and only window. I’ll never forget the first night Reese slept in this bed with me. It was the night of Juls and Ian’s wedding. The night that is permanently branded into my memory.

The night that will always mean more to me than he’ll ever know.

21

Seven months ago

“Where do you want me, love?” Reese asks, backing up the stairs that lead up to my loft.

This is it. The moment I’ve been dreaming about, thinking about constantly. We’ve only been official for two-and-a-half hours, but getting him in my bed has been the only thing on my mind. I wanted to leave Juls and Ian’s wedding reception early, but I didn’t. I held out. I do have some willpower; not much, but some. And having any willpower around this man is an extremely difficult task, trust me. If he hadn’t fucked me in the bathroom two-and-a-half hours ago, I definitely wouldn’t have made it, but he did. So we stayed. And now, he’s mine. He’s had me in his bed, and I’d be damned if I was going to go another second without having him in mine.

“My bed. Now.” I push against his heaving chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly against my palm. He’s still deliciously decked-out in his tux and it’s killing me. He’s killing me. The look he’s giving me right now, the way his body towers over mine, his intoxicating citrus scent. It’s fucking killing me. I’ve never been this turned on before, I’m sure of it. My panties are still in his pants pocket and right now, I could probably use them. I can feel my wetness pooling between my legs. I lick my lips, biting down on the bottom one as the back of his long legs hit my bed. With one tiny push, he falls back and I’m on him.

“Mmm, my girl is impatient,” he says, smiling up at me as I straddle his waist. “You can take your time, you know. I’m not going anywhere.” Take my time? Nonsense. His hands tug at the hem of my dress and with one quick motion, it’s pulled over my head and discarded somewhere. Anywhere. Who the fuck cares where my dress is because right now, the only thing I care about is him.

“Fuck taking my time.” My fingers frantically rip open his dress shirt, the tiny white buttons flying out in every direction. “You can take your time with me, after I fuck you.”

He was just inside me a few hours ago, but the anticipation of having him again in my bed is enough to make me loopy. But, that’s what happens when you stupidly decide that beds are off-limits during your casual bullshit phase. What the hell was I even thinking? I mean, yes I was trying to not fall in love with this man, which was inevitable. I convinced myself that beds were too intimate and it would be best if we didn’t go there. Seriously the worst idea of my life. I’ve paid the price severely for that horrible judgment call, having spent the last eighty-five days wallowing in my bed which didn’t contain any memories of him. But, that bullshit is all in the past and gazing down at him right now, I can’t believe I ever initiated the no-bed rule. His body belongs in my bed.