Surprisingly, his words echo my thoughts. Although I wish I could remember it, spending the night in his arms is something I one day hope I might get to do again. Clarity washes over me as I realize I trust his words. In the depth of my soul, I know Maxton is being honest with me. The harder I try to ignore the truth, the more real it becomes. Not knowing what to do with this new information, I need to be alone, need a minute to organize my thoughts. Standing, I timidly put weight on my ankle. “Careful,” Maxton urges.

It’s tender but no searing pain. “I’m good. No pain, just tender.”

“I can get you whatever you need.”

Sweet Maxton. “I’m just going to use the restroom. I’m fine, I promise.” To further prove my point, I stand on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. “Be right back.”

Taking my time in the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I wish I would have brought pajamas to change into. Realizing I’m stalling, I dry my hands and open the door. The soft glow of the bathroom light filters into my room and what I see knocks the breath from my lungs. Maxton is lying in my bed, arm slung over his eyes, sound asleep. Not wanting to wake him, I quickly turn off the bathroom light and let my eyes adjust. The moonlight filters in through the window as I take in his sleeping form.

Maxton with his broad shoulders and muscular arms, standing well over six feet tall, and his massive self-confidence is intimidating. Maxton lying in my bed against my lavender sheets, he’s… adorable.

I’ve never been able to give myself completely to any man. I’ve had physical relationships, but none of which ignited an ounce of the passion that Maxton can pour into me with just one look.

Knowing how exhausted he is, I don’t have the heart to wake him. To be honest, I want him right where he is. There is a peace that settles inside of me when Maxton is around. Decision made, I grab a t-shirt and shorts and quickly change into them in the darkness of the bathroom, not willing to take the risk of waking him with the light. Walking through the darkness, I slowly climb into bed with the least amount of movement at possible, sliding under the covers. Even though there is a good foot between us, I swear I can feel his warmth. I want it wrapped around me. I still feel shortchanged about last night. He held me the entire night and I don’t remember any of it. I have no one to blame but myself, and my alcohol consumption.

Lesson learned.

Rolling on my side, I watch him sleep. I take in the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the corded muscles in his arms, to his hands long fingered and strong. The memory of what the rough pads felt like against my skin. Realizing my intense examination is doing me more harm than good, I roll over, placing my back to him. The ever-present desire when in his presence hits me full force. Laying this close to him, I fight the urge to “take care of things” on my own.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to distract myself. I think about school and my internship that I need to start working on. I need to find a local business I can assist for six weeks before winter quarter begins. The distraction helps as I slowly start to drift off to sleep.

Feeling the bed move pulls me out of my almost slumber. I say a silent prayer that he doesn’t leave. That’s when I feel him. His large frame scoots in next to me, his arm drops over my waist, and he tugs me close. I freeze, not knowing what he’s going to do next. His face is buried in my neck and he’s breathing deeply.

He’s still asleep.

I relax against him, relishing the fact I’m in his arms. He may not realize it, but as his warmth seeps into me, I decide it doesn’t matter. I still feel safe and protected and… I just want to enjoy it while I can.

Lying next to him, I focus on his breathing. Soon, not only are our bodies aligned, but so is our breathing. However, it doesn’t last long when Maxton hugs me tighter, if that’s even possible, sighs with contentment, and mumbles in his sleep, “My girl.”

My heart flutters in my chest at his subconscious admission, and then plummets when I realize there have been a lot of “girls” for Maxton. Chances are slim he’s thinking about me. Deciding to pretend otherwise, I let the echo of his words wrap me in a silk cocoon of peace as I drift off to sleep.

KENSINGTON. I SMELL her. As I start to wake, that’s the first thing I realize. I can smell her sweet scent. I can feel her. I don’t want to wake up from this dream, ever. Even though I fight it, my body still pulls me to consciousness. I feel a hand on my cheek and I swear if feels real, like she’s here with me. I feel a soft puff of breath in my face, which causes my eyes to flutter open. I blink several times to make sure the sight before me is real. Make sure she is real.

“Morning.” Her voice is husky from sleep, but her smile, her smile lights me up inside.

I take a minute to survey the situation. One of her legs is between mine. My arms are around her waist holding her close. It’s not a dream. I held her for the second night in a row. This time, I’m the one who missed it.

Her soft hands reach up and caress my jaw. “You were exhausted,” she informs me.

Resting my hand on the rounded curve of her hip, my heart pounds in my chest and blood rushed through my veins. I slip my thumb under her t-shirt and stroke her bare skin. Her breath coming in tiny pants fuels me. I slide my hand to her back and stroke her spine.

“Morning, beautiful,” I finally address her. Her face lights up and a smile tips her lips.

“I remember it this time.” Her voice is musical.

My hand continues its journey, learning her curves. Reaching her hip again, I slide my hand underneath the waist of her shorts and trace her soft skin. “Remember what?” I ask, fighting to not let myself get lost in her.

“You holding me.”

“I thought I was dreaming. When I woke up, I could smell you, feel you. I thought I was dreaming.” My eyes lock on hers. My hand ventures over her flat belly, up further until I feel the swell of her breast. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I trace underneath the swell with my index finger. “I was wrong, you are so very real.” My voice is deep and filled with my desire for her.

Opening her eyes, she finds me still staring, trying to gauge her reaction. All I see is longing and desire, no hesitation, no regret. “Kiss me,” she pleads. Not one to disappoint, I lower my mouth to hers.

I trace the soft fullness of her lips with my tongue. Parting her lips, she raises her head off the pillow to get closer to me. Her tongue tentatively duels with mine. I drink in her taste, taking every bit of what she’s offering.

Lost in the kiss, my hand cups her breast. I run the rough pad of my thumb over the swollen peaks. She shudders, but doesn’t pull away. Her hands grip my arms, holding me to her. Fumbling through my craving for her, I tug on her shirt until her breasts are bared before me. Once again, I seal my lips over hers, nipping with my teeth, soothing with my tongue “Maxton,” she breathes my name and I’ve never heard words more sweet. Making sure I lavish both peaks, I let one nipple slip from my grasp then capture the other. My hand finds its way back to the waistband of her shorts. This time I don’t stop. I slip my hand underneath, seeking her delicate softness, making her hips buck forward.

“Please,” she pleads. Her hands now clutch tightly in my hair.

I’m sure I know what she’s asking for, but I need to be positive. I need her to tell me. “Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”

“You, Max, I want you,” she pants.

Not good enough. “Where? How? What do you want me to do to you?” I need to hear the words.

Her hand drops from my hair and slowly follows the path mine just took. She slips her hand underneath her waistband and places it over mine. “Here, Maxton. I want you here. Touch me, please.”