lips.
“You really need to eat now, baby. Come on.” He pulls me from the bed, putting himself back into his underwear, still hard. He walks over to where he dropped my panties, picking them up bringing them over to me. He bends down and I step into them.
“Don’t clean that off.” He glares at me like I might disobey him, but I just smile and nod.
“I’m going to use the bathroom, then cook you something. Explore if you like, but don’t use the elevator.”
“And go where?” I tease. I’m not even dressed.
“Away from me.”
I try to tell him I’m not going anywhere, but his mouth takes mine, stopping my chance. His tongue pushes into my mouth as he hungrily eats at me like we’re saying goodbye forever.
When he finally pulls back, I’m out of breath.
“I like your lips swollen like that,” he tells me, placing a chaste kiss on them before heading to the bathroom. He stops at the door, turning to look at me for a second.
“Not going anywhere.” I know that’s what he wants to hear. I don’t know if I should be concerned about how much he’s worrying. It doesn’t bother me, but I just don’t want him to get himself so worked up. Maybe once the accident is a behind us, some of his fear will start to fade.
He nods, disappearing into the bathroom, and I watch him go. I can’t help but admire his body. He’s built like a freaking tank compared to me, but where I’m soft, he’s all hard.
Turning, I head out of our room and down the hallway. I pass an office and a spare room. Everything is just white and plain. No real life to it. It doesn’t feel like home.
Until I hit the living room and see painting after painting on the floor, carefully propped up against the wall. They look like they need to be hung. All over them are images of Phillip and me. I wonder if they’re moments in our lives I can’t remember. I just stand and study them. They are stunning.
“They’re yours,” Phillip says, and I look over my shoulder to see him standing behind me.
“I painted them?” I look back at the paintings, hoping to remember something, but nothing comes. They feel right though. Not like this condo. “I must really like you,” I say teasingly, turning to look at him again. His hair is wet from the quick shower he must have taken, and he’s only wearing a pair of jeans.
Something flashes in his eyes as he looks back to the paintings like he’s never seen them before.
Chapter Ten
Phillip
I knew Carl had said all the paintings were of me, but I had no idea. It was like I’d filled her every thought like she does mine. That cools some of the bitterness that still rides me. When I’d woken this morning and she wasn't in bed, I’d almost lost it.
I was shocked I hadn't felt her leave the bed to begin with, but last night was the best night of sleep I’d had in what felt like an entirely. With her in my arms, I drifted right off to sleep. Knowing she was safe. That I had her back and she would never be leaving me again.
I should’ve felt guilt that I hadn’t woken her when I came back to bed after making her something to eat, but my need to crawl into bed and just hold her won out. I just wanted to wrap around her and forget about all the plans I’d laid.
I was making sure reporters didn’t come near her. Making sure Cindy wouldn’t blow my cover. It had taken a lot of work and some heavy pull and money to get reporters to back the fuck off, but Cindy was the hardest. I think she could hear the desperation in my voice.
“We’re waiting to hang them in the new house,” I half lie. I will be hanging them in the new house, I just hadn't really known about them before.
“New house. That’s why this place is so blah . You already moved some stuff?” She looks around the condo with a scrunched face like she doesn't like it at all.
I reach out and pull her towards me. She tilts her head back to look at me. One of her bare feet lifts and starts to run along my leg as she settles
“You really need to eat now, baby. Come on.” He pulls me from the bed, putting himself back into his underwear, still hard. He walks over to where he dropped my panties, picking them up bringing them over to me. He bends down and I step into them.
“Don’t clean that off.” He glares at me like I might disobey him, but I just smile and nod.
“I’m going to use the bathroom, then cook you something. Explore if you like, but don’t use the elevator.”
“And go where?” I tease. I’m not even dressed.
“Away from me.”
I try to tell him I’m not going anywhere, but his mouth takes mine, stopping my chance. His tongue pushes into my mouth as he hungrily eats at me like we’re saying goodbye forever.
When he finally pulls back, I’m out of breath.
“I like your lips swollen like that,” he tells me, placing a chaste kiss on them before heading to the bathroom. He stops at the door, turning to look at me for a second.
“Not going anywhere.” I know that’s what he wants to hear. I don’t know if I should be concerned about how much he’s worrying. It doesn’t bother me, but I just don’t want him to get himself so worked up. Maybe once the accident is a behind us, some of his fear will start to fade.
He nods, disappearing into the bathroom, and I watch him go. I can’t help but admire his body. He’s built like a freaking tank compared to me, but where I’m soft, he’s all hard.
Turning, I head out of our room and down the hallway. I pass an office and a spare room. Everything is just white and plain. No real life to it. It doesn’t feel like home.
Until I hit the living room and see painting after painting on the floor, carefully propped up against the wall. They look like they need to be hung. All over them are images of Phillip and me. I wonder if they’re moments in our lives I can’t remember. I just stand and study them. They are stunning.
“They’re yours,” Phillip says, and I look over my shoulder to see him standing behind me.
“I painted them?” I look back at the paintings, hoping to remember something, but nothing comes. They feel right though. Not like this condo. “I must really like you,” I say teasingly, turning to look at him again. His hair is wet from the quick shower he must have taken, and he’s only wearing a pair of jeans.
Something flashes in his eyes as he looks back to the paintings like he’s never seen them before.
Chapter Ten
Phillip
I knew Carl had said all the paintings were of me, but I had no idea. It was like I’d filled her every thought like she does mine. That cools some of the bitterness that still rides me. When I’d woken this morning and she wasn't in bed, I’d almost lost it.
I was shocked I hadn't felt her leave the bed to begin with, but last night was the best night of sleep I’d had in what felt like an entirely. With her in my arms, I drifted right off to sleep. Knowing she was safe. That I had her back and she would never be leaving me again.
I should’ve felt guilt that I hadn’t woken her when I came back to bed after making her something to eat, but my need to crawl into bed and just hold her won out. I just wanted to wrap around her and forget about all the plans I’d laid.
I was making sure reporters didn’t come near her. Making sure Cindy wouldn’t blow my cover. It had taken a lot of work and some heavy pull and money to get reporters to back the fuck off, but Cindy was the hardest. I think she could hear the desperation in my voice.
“We’re waiting to hang them in the new house,” I half lie. I will be hanging them in the new house, I just hadn't really known about them before.
“New house. That’s why this place is so blah . You already moved some stuff?” She looks around the condo with a scrunched face like she doesn't like it at all.
I reach out and pull her towards me. She tilts her head back to look at me. One of her bare feet lifts and starts to run along my leg as she settles
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