True Bliss (21 page)

I put my bag down, and after turning off the TV, I wrench the wine glass from her hand, and place it on the table behind me. I see an empty wine bottle on the coffee table and chuckle to myself as I lift her up into my arms, cradling her against me with one arm around her back, the other underneath her knees.

She buries her head in my neck as I walk toward her bedroom. The smell of her hair-a vanilla concoction I've seen in the bathroom-fills my senses, and fuck if it doesn't fill my brain with thoughts that are really not helpful right now. The warmth of her breath laced with her favorite wine taunts me as I pull the covers back and lay her down on her bed, softly placing her head on the pillow. She opens her eyes slowly, smiling when she sees me. She wraps her arms around my neck to stop my retreat.

“You came home.” Drunk or not, thinking that this is home for me isn't too short off the mark.

“Of course I did. Didn't want to be anywhere else,” I reply as I kiss her forehead.

“I want you,” she whispers in a soft drunken slur as her eyes close again. She tries to pull me closer, but I put an arm to the bed and hold my ground, leaning above her and taking in the sight of my drunken cute as hell firebird in person.

“I want you so bad it hurts, babe, but my plans involve you being sober, coherent and very much awake. So how about we wait for that third date and really make it worth our while?”

Her hands slip down my chest, gripping tightly to my T-shirt. “Hmmm. Stay with me then,” she rasps, opening her eyes again. I can see how much she wants this. One look like that, and I'll give her the world and ask her if she needs anything else.

“Never thought you'd ask.” She loosens her grip, allowing me to stand. I reach over my shoulder and pull my t-shirt off before stepping out of my jeans.

“Do you need to get changed, babe?” I ask, earning a shake of her head, her eyes closing again as sleep threatens to take hold. She's wearing a tight tank with no bra which I'm begging my cock to ignore, and short, silk pajama bottoms.

“Nope…I'm perfect.” Yes, goddammit, you are.

I walk around the four-poster bed. All it needs is drapes around the sides, and it would be like those princess beds you see in movies. I remember when I first saw her room all those months ago, and thought it was a perfect fit for her. Never did I think I'd be sleeping with her in it. And only sleeping.

As I get into bed and lie down, Kate rolls over and straight into my arms. Oh shit. I'm in fucking deep trouble now. This girl...that body...those damn, silky shorts...my cock jerks awake, cursing me for teasing him constantly.

No, this is not about sex. It never has been with Kate; otherwise I would have been in this bed, in various stages of nakedness, long before now. I might as well hand in my man card because this girl has gotten under my skin in the seven weeks it's been since I saw her in the bar on her date. Bullshit, it was well before that, but now I don't think there is any way I can get her out again, even if she tried.

My last thought before sleep finally takes me is how the fuck did I get so lucky.

KATE

I wake up plastered to a warm body. And I mean plastered. One arm is underneath my head, the other is over a slow beating heart, my legs are tangled with long, hard muscular ones and my pelvis is being stabbed by either a rather hard stick, or the stiffest cock I've ever felt against me.

Nope, I must still be dreaming. There is no way I could have dragged Zander to my bed and had my way with him-finally!-and not remember it. That would be a violation of the 'all that is holy' girl code, and that wouldn't fly. You never just 'sleep' with a man like Zander, you let him own your soul.

I lie there for a few more minutes, my mind racing at thoughts of what I'm wearing, was it cute, what happened last night, then oh shit, my hair must be a mess, my breath must be horrendous and-eww, yuck!-I forgot to brush my teeth before bed. Then there are the flashes of memories. The way he carried me to bed, how I nuzzled his neck, how happy I was that he was home, and him telling me he didn't want to be anywhere else.

I smile and slowly open my eyes, being met with the gorgeous sight of Zander Roberts lying in my bed beside me, his eyes still closed, his breathing steady as he sleeps off his late night. He must have gotten home late if I had conked out on the couch. He must think I'm such a lush.

Lying beside him as still as I can, I decide that if I never have this opportunity again, I owe it to myself to at least explore my surroundings.

In short, his body.

I prop my head up on one elbow and start with his smooth chest. I can't imagine him having chest hair, but if he does, he obviously has to keep it short for his night job. Fuck if I don't like it smooth, though. I flex my fingers gently into his pecs as I watch his flat nipples harden. Damn, that's hot. All I want to do right now is reach over and run my tongue over his chest. I wonder if he'll wake up if I do that? Is it crossing the invisible line that we, more specifically I have set for no sex before the third date. Can it be argued that we've had many dates, just not of the official going out and doing something variety?

Deciding that I should take opportunities like this while the going is good, I lean my head down and softly lick over his nipple. He tastes just like I imagined; his skin slightly salty, but oh so fucking delicious. I feel his heartbeat race, and I swear I feel his cock twitch against my thigh, but it doesn't deter me. I rake my fingertips down his abs, counting in twos and stopping at eight, just as the V of his hips begins to taunt me.

“Don't start something you can't finish, babe,” I hear from behind my head as I jump in fright.

I pull back and look up to see the most devilish grin on his beautiful face.

“Hi,” I say sheepishly.

“Hey yourself. Couldn't help yourself, huh?” His shit eating grin gets bigger.

“Seems not,” I say. “Although, in all fairness, I was surprised to wake up plastered against you.”

“Why? You asked me to sleep with you, and I couldn't help but oblige.” The bastard winks at me when my expression changes to that of horror.

“I did not ask you to sleep with me! Oh shit, did I?”

“I don't know whether to be offended or amused.”

I feel my cheeks go hot. “I mean… um… did I ask to sleep with you?”

“You asked me to stay with you, after telling me in your very adorable drunken sleepy state that you wanted me.”

Deciding that now is not the time to back down to my insecurities, I just nod. 'Well I do, so that wasn't the drunk or sleepy part of me talking.”

With a quick flip, I find myself lying flat on my back with his hard everywhere body pressing down into mine. “That would explain the early morning discovery mission then,” he adds.

God, he feels good lying on top of me. “Mmm hmm.”

“For the record, I loved sleeping next to you. You're a very cuddly sleeper.” He rests his weight on one arm and sweeps my hair back off my face, causing my breath to catch.

“I always have been. Ask my mom. I used to wake up in the middle of the night and crawl into bed between her and dad for years,” I say nervously.

“Well, if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, you're always welcome to crawl into bed with me,” he says. His eyes seem to study my face, but I can't stop my eyes from dropping to his lips. Have I told you how much I love kissing this man?

“If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to be forced to kiss you.”

“Mmm hmm,” I reply, totally distracted by the perfect curved lips that are just inches away from mine.

“You asked for it.”

Suddenly, his tongue is in my open mouth, and he's kissing the life out of me, but I'm not complaining. I'm fully on board with this move. So on board that I grip his hair in my hands and pull his head even closer, his still hard cock against my stomach, my thighs clenching his.

He pulls back all too soon. “Babe, I have to stop or else I'm gonna lose it, and I want our first time together to be special for you. Not a five minute romp where I totally embarrass myself with my lack of endurance.”

I giggle at the absurdity of that sentence. There is no way that Zander would ever have any issue with stamina. “I think we've proven that you have more endurance than me when it comes to kissing.”

He looks down at me and smirks. “True, although in your case, that was one of the hottest fucking moments in my entire life.”

Holy mother of god. That just amps up my libido again, and I wish he'd just take me now.

Squeezing my thighs against his hips, I pull his head down and whisper in his ear, “You sure we can't just skip the third date and go straight to the sex?”

His entire body goes rigid, and he pulls back to look at me, finally breaking his gaze when he shakes his head as if he's trying to break himself out of a haze. “Babe, I told you it would happen, but you didn't believe me.”

I frown, not following him.

“I told you it would be a hard task keeping you from jumping me. Maybe the drunken cuteness was just a ruse to get me into your bed.” Then the bastard winks, and I know he's playing me.

“Cocky much?” I say, swatting his shoulder.

With one deep long stroke up my stomach, I instantly regret my choice of words.

“Much. Now I'm going to go cook pancakes, for breakfast this time, and once you mistakenly convince yourself that you've improved on the gorgeous goddess I had the pleasure of waking up to, your coffee will be waiting for you.”

With a quick, hard kiss, he achingly pulls his body away from mine, and I get the fine view of his boxer clad ass walking into our joint bathroom.

It's a good morning indeed.

ZANDER

This week has been hell, filled with final testing at the academy to make sure we're ready for field training next week. Talk about being physically and mentally draining. I've felt so bad for Kate. By the time I get home, she's lucky to get half an hour out of me before I'm collapsing in bed or falling asleep on the couch.

Don't get me started on the weekend either. I ended up being bribed into working for a night at the bar with Zach because he was two people down and desperate, and the other night was back to back gigs.

I've had no time to organize, let alone think about our elusive third date. And as much as I want to, I'm losing my resolve to stick to her three date rule. Ever since last weekend, we've been sleeping in her bed. It just sort of happened, and despite nothing more than sleeping all over each other and early morning make out sessions, there has been no third base action, let alone the home run we both crave.

But dammit, it's hard to keep to my promise. Part of me, mostly the lower half of me, is thinking about just jumping her and saying to hell with the third official date. It's not just me, either. Kate has been pouting and dropping hints all week. My favorite was when she argued with me, quite passionately, that our pancakes for dinner could be classed as our first date, which would make the zoo our second and dinner our third and that we should just 'do it already'.

It has been such a long time coming, I think I've built it up in my head to the point that it is stressing me out. I want the big romantic gesture. I want it to rock her fucking world. As much as I want to give her the toe-curling orgasms and hear her scream out my name as I pile drive into her pussy, I want it to be more than that. I want to get so lost in each other that you can't tell where one begins, and the other one ends.

Fuck, that's it. I really am turning into a fucking girl.

Now it's Monday morning and I'm waiting to meet my Field Training Officer-FTO. For the last month in the academy, I'll be working out of a CPD precinct with the FTO to make sure I'm fully prepared and aware of the reality of my new career. It's all well and good to get weapons training, regular physicals, and be taught all of the laws we have to uphold, but out there in the real world it is a whole new ball game.

It would be like trying to play baseball with a blindfold. You know about it, you hear about it, but if you can't cope with the game when that blindfold is ripped off, then you're going to be no use to anyone, are you?

According to my paperwork, which also proudly declares that I 'passed with flying colors', my FTO is Sam Richards. So you'll imagine my surprise and confusion when a statuesque uniformed woman walks into the room and shuts the door to the interview room before sitting down at the desk opposite me and opening up a brown folder. She holds out her hand to shake mine. “I'm Samantha Richards, and I'm going to be your FTO for the next few weeks. We've got a lot to talk about right now, but I'm sure we'll get to know a bit about each other while we're working general patrol.”

“Zander Roberts. But you probably know that.”

“Yep. Says it right here in front of me,” she replies deadpan.

Tough audience. Well, field training sounds like it'll be a bunch of laughs with her around.