With Crayons and Love (Romantic Suspense) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 24 - Dream

I woke up before my phone could vibrate. And naked, my body was naked. The side where he had slept was a mess of crumbled sheets, thrown aside when he had risen.

Oh, it smelt like him. Denim and soap and just a bit of cologne. The pillow he had used was warm, very warm, and the weight of his head still bore a mark on the feathered mass.

Why he had left was beyond me, and I was only rationally annoyed.

What time could it be? I had to work later in the morning, and Stella was still asleep if she hadn't come knocking restlessly after waiting on her own. That meant it could only be earlier than eight in the morning, and a glance at my phone was just enough verification that I was right.

So he had left quite early, most probably to paint. I could forgive him for that, possibly.

With a yawn I stumbled out of bed and donned the first nightgown I could find in my drawers, then walked slowly down the hallway, my eyes still heavy from sleep.

I opened Stella's door to check up on her and found her sleeping soundly in her bed. Satisfied, I closed the door and kept walking toward the bathroom.

By the door, I could hear the water running, and my senses were so drugged with sleep that the kick of adrenaline sent my heart to a gallop. Water running...? My hand reached out before I could think and I swung open the door.

Right there in all his morning glory was my lover, his head dipped as he slicked his hair back with water, droplets falling down the sides of his face and neck, over the dampened waves of black.

He looked up at me, engaged, and when he saw my face the corners of his mouth pulled up into a half smile.

My hand fluttered to my breast. "Jesus Christ! Grant." I breathed, eyes wide as I tried to collect myself. I uttered a curse, overwhelmed with the adrenaline that had coursed through me just moments before, and the awareness that hit me just now.

He laughed at me with that quiet, deep rumble of his, straightening his body so that he loomed. He turned off the faucet and crossed his arms, staring at me with a smirk.

"Did you expect someone else?" He asked.

I shook my head, biting my lip from the sudden rush of nerves. "You surprised me. I thought you'd left."

He had dressed completely before leaving my bedroom, I noticed with perverse disappointment.

His voice was too thick, too probing, in the morning. "No, Red. I'm still here."

I nodded once. "Mhm. I noticed."

He cocked a brow, only half amused, and grabbed my hand to pull me close with a single tug, my body crushing against his.

"You're edgy this morning," he observed.

"Well," I narrowed my eyes at him, "I was irritated when I didn't find you in bed. Then I was half asleep and you scared the life out of me when I heard the water running. Oh, and let's not leave out the fact that I opened the door to find you looking all incredibly hot and wet and- That's three shocks before I can even have my coffee, Grant Gable."

His eyes, a calm and grayish blue before the sun could fully rise, blinked twice. Then he made me die a little when he started to laugh, strong and beautiful, while his hands went to my hips and brought me even closer. That full, worshipping mouth took my mouth and weakened me. The fourth and greatest shock of the day.

I clung to him and fed him, until it only became fair that I took some of him for myself, feeling that thick mass of wet hair and nibbling on his lower lip as if it were a holy offering.