All Songs are Love Songs by Ophelia Leigh

Author:Ophelia Leigh [Leigh, Ophelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-24T16:00:00+00:00

Music. We live a life of music all the time, everywhere, even when I’d rather be sleeping. Shut up, fucking phone alarm, it’s way too…wait. I don’t even have this song on my phone.

That’s not my alarm.

It’s not Sammy calling to update me on where I’m supposed to be today, either.

The ground isn’t moving. The bus isn’t rolling.

The bus. Wait.

Oh. My. God. Last night. I know what I did. What we did. But—

The moment I stir to quiet the alarm, Wes’s arm tightens around me. The Black Keys play on. So this is what he wakes up to? I love that. I love it so much. My thighs ache pleasantly, making what we did last night impossible to ignore. The memory sets my heart racing—was it right? Was it okay? Does he have any regrets? Do I have any regrets?

No, I don’t.

With sleep still keeping his eyes half shut, he presses the softest kiss to the side of my face. “Morning.”

“Already? Make it stop.”

“Can’t.” He stretches like a cat in sunshine. “It’s physics.”

“You and science.” I’m not a tentative person, but this is all new. What does he like in the morning? Should I run over and brush my teeth first? Throw on some deodorant? Fix my makeup so I look like a soap opera character waking up? I don’t know. He didn’t bring the official Wes user manual with him when he showed up last night.

Softly, so softly, I trace the line of his cheekbone.

His hand meets mine, warm and demanding, pressing my fingers closer. Don’t go, the move says, don’t move at all. I don’t, at least not until he draws my hand to his mouth for a kiss to my palm. It’s decadent in its simplicity. Electric as anything. My hand zings with passion, with power, with heat, and stays that way even as he reaches to finally quiet his phone.

“Do we have to get up already?” Staying naked in his arms is a far better option than anything else.

He lets out a little laugh. “I was smart. Set it early. So we’d have time to play.”

“Ooh. One of us was using their brain last night, and it wasn’t me.”

Wes laughs again. “I like your brain.” He’s beautiful, still. That wasn’t gonna change, whether he stayed the night or bolted under cover of darkness. A ray of sunlight peeks around the heavy hotel curtain. It’s just enough so we can see each other.

Just enough so I can see he picked up another condom from the bedside table. He is smart.

I could get used to waking up like this, especially when his hands slide down my arm, settling me against him just so. Last night was a rush of passion. This morning, Wes takes his time. Every inch of skin he touches heats. If I’m a work of art, one he has to explore to understand, then he’s the sculptor bringing me to life. He might play me like a musical instrument, but I’ll learn to read him like an open book.

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