“Um, Sam…”

I nuzzle my face into the nape of her neck and press a kiss to her shoulder. “What?”

“You promised to stay on your side of the bed.”

“I am on my side of the bed.”

She chuckles.

“Go to sleep.”

She wiggles her bottom in my lap, and I have to pull back a little and adjust my junk.

“Um…”

“That’s just my dick. I told you he likes you. He’ll give up in a minute. Go to sleep.”

My head is lying on my bicep and I feel her turn her head ever so slightly and press a kiss against the tender skin of my inner arm. Damn, that feels good.

My hand creeps up a little. This is the first time I’ve touched her naked stomach, and my fingertips are a little greedy. Her hand covers mine and holds it flat against her belly.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

She doesn’t say anything. She just holds my hand there against her skin, wrapped in hers. After a couple of minutes, she goes soft in my arms. I realize in that moment that I am in serious trouble. Like the awful, terrible, no good, very bad kind. Because I think I’m in love with her.

No. I don’t think it. I know it. What I don’t know is whether or not she’s capable of loving me back.

Peck

I wake up the next day and immediately realize that I’m alone. I wipe drool from the side of my mouth and roll over. I can hear the shower running in the adjoining bathroom and I know Sam’s in there. I wonder if he has somewhere to be today.

Sleeping with Sam…it was different from anyone I’ve ever slept with before. Not that I’ve slept with a lot of people. But still. Sam was warm and cuddly and hard and hot and I kept wanting to kiss him in his sleep. I woke up one time to find his hand under my shirt, cupping my naked breast. I was startled, but then I realized he was completely asleep. He held me even when he wasn’t awake. I left his hand there. It was nice and comfortable. And I could pretend he was mine while he was asleep.

I roll over and press my face into his pillow. It smells clean and woodsy like he does. I suppose I can’t lie in his bed all day, so I toss the covers back. I can hear him talking softly to himself over the noise of the shower. I hear my name, so I step closer to the door. That was definitely my name, in a little chant, repeated over and over. His voice is soft and deep, and a little gravelly.

I push the door open ever so slightly and stick my head inside. The shower door is made of glass, and my heart skips a beat when I realize I can see what he’s doing inside. He stands with one hip hitched against the wall, bearing the weight for his bad leg, and one hand pressed hard against the shower wall. His other hand is…busy. Really, really busy.

My heart starts to race, and heat shoots straight to the center of me. I press my legs together to ease some of the ache that has suddenly pressed hard against my clit. It’s thumping like mad, and my nipples are aching pinpoints against my shirt.

All I can see is Sam’s ass cheeks clenched, so I just have to imagine what’s going on with that hand shuttling up and down his dick, and it’s a damn fine picture I have in my head.

I should go away. I should let him have this moment, but I’m trapped like a deer in headlights. Particularly when he says my name a little louder, clenches his ass, and groans. His hand shuttles quickly up and down his length until his buttocks relax and he tips his face up to the shower, but he doesn’t look satisfied. He looks hungry. His head turns and he catches me watching him.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, then rinses off quickly. The water shuts off, and I scramble back into the bedroom, because I don’t know what to do with myself.

Sam hobbles out on his crutches wearing nothing but a towel cinched around his lean hips. Oh my God, that man is beautifully built. He sits down and uses a second towel to dry his boot, unfastens it to get all the moisture out, then fastens it back.

“You okay?” he asks me.

“Yeah. Why?” I pretend to dig around in my bag.

“I didn’t know you were standing there.” He’s very calm about it.

“I d-didn’t mean to…” I don’t even know how to say I’m sorry for invading his privacy. I sit down on the edge of the bed. He lies back so that his head is next to my hip.

“Next time, you should come and join me.” He looks into my eyes and smiles up at me.

“I…um…” My face must be as red as a tomato. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I was just stuck. Sorry.”

“Stuck like happy stuck? Or stuck like I-fucking-hate-that-this-guy-is-getting-off-to-thoughts-of-me stuck?”

“Stuck like I-can’t-move stuck. That’s all. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

He grins. “I’m not embarrassed.” He bends his elbows and rests his hands behind his neck.

“You’re not?”

“Fuck no,” he says. “I had you in my bed all night long, with my hands all over you. I was so turned on when I woke up I could have driven nails with my dick. If I wanted to be able to walk today, I had to do something.”

“Oh.” The image of him driving anything with his dick has my clit thumping again and I press my legs together to ease some of the ache.

He catches the move, though, and his eyes narrow. “You’re turned on, aren’t you?” He rolls to face me, his head on his balanced palm. His free hand draws a circle on my upper thigh. Then I realize that this position has my wide thighs spread even wider. I pull the sheet over me. “What did you do that for?” he whines. But he’s grinning. His hand slips beneath the covers and tickles up and down my thigh.