Red_Roses_and_Black_Dahlias_-_Macy_T

Then I remembered.
Last night, Valentina demanding we cuddle all together in one bed,
Maddox and I agreeing to please her then Valentina falling asleep and us
talking until the early hours of the morning, before succumbing to sleep
ourselves. He was supposed to go, he was supposed to get back to his own
bed. I guess he didn’t.
I remembered his hands on my skin as he gripped my waist, his thumb
drawing circles onto my hip, illicit goosebumps betraying the arousal
gathering in the low of my stomach. I remembered his voice, hoarse from
sleepiness, as he told me all about his childhood, about his parents and his
sister and his cute niece.
He told me about his best friend Derek and all the troubles they put
themselves into when they were younger, often resulting in the cops showing
up. I called him out on that and he simply chuckled and squeezed my side a
bit tighter than he had been up until that point. I think exhaustion made him
reckless because he touched me more last night than he did in the whole time
that I’d known him.
And I loved it, reveled in it, even. I was starved for his attention and I
couldn’t get enough of it.
It was a part of Maddox I had never seen before, that sleepy, reckless,
almost boyish version of him. It was a part of Maddox I could see myself
growing to love.
But I knew it wouldn’t last, I was certain once morning came he would
have been long gone, avoiding me as much as he could for the next few days
because he would have seen our late night conversation as inappropriate.
Yet he didn’t go. God, he didn’t. He was still here, right behind me.
Maddox groaned again and that thing, that warmth on my stomach, I
suddenly knew what it was.