Inside Out - Lauren Dane [35]
She turned to him with rolled eyes, playfully batting at his shoulder. “If I did, I doubt I’d be able to squeeze into it.”
A comfortable silence settled in as they picked at all the munchies on the plate he’d brought back with him. Both seemed to understand the depth of what had been shared, the intimacy they’d built. He couldn’t regret it at all.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked sometime later, after they’d demolished the food and drink. “Seems a shame to waste that dress.” He paused. “Though, I could be perfectly content to sit here with you and imagine you in that cheerleading skirt.”
She laughed softly. “All right then. Though I must tell you how utterly relaxed I am right now under this blanket with you. In addition to your other fine qualities, you put out a great deal of body heat. It’s a dream of mine.”
“What? All my body heat at your disposal? I’m always pleased to be your dream. I’m just as happy to stay right here.” Plus, right there they were totally alone. He had her all to himself, and he selfishly wanted to keep it that way. Damn, he shouldn’t have even suggested moving.
“I picked up some Pablo Neruda,” she said in her seemingly random way, standing and holding a hand out. “Come on, you know you want to. It’ll keep us warm.”
He took her hand, considering pulling her back to his lap to show her what he really wanted to do. He hardened at the vision of her on his lap, riding his cock as the moon lit her skin. But he stood, thinking about the root canal he’d had the month before to quell the raging hard-on. He took her hand in his own, and led her toward the dance floor. “You did? How do you like him?”
“I got a collection written in Spanish. I like it better that way. Of course I’m rusty, but what I can understand still is sensual, sexy, beautiful. I like it.”
She’d looked it up for him. Had read it because he’d mentioned it. He didn’t know why that floored him the way it did, but wow.
He twirled her, loving that she still wore his suit coat, pulling her to him. The song was slow enough he had the excuse to sway, her body pressed to him. Her scent surrounded him, and everything was right.
“ ‘You’ve moon-lines, apple pathways ...’” he murmured.
She turned her head, looking up to him, a pleased smile on her lips. “That’s lovely.”
“Pablo Neruda. One of his love sonnets called ‘Morning.’ ” One of his favorites.
“I’ll have to see if it’s in the volume I picked up.”
He would read them to her as they lay in his bed, limbs entwined. Yeah. He closed his eyes and breathed her in.
“What’s your favorite thing to do on a Sunday morning?” he asked, and she looked surprised and then pleased. Her face was always so incredibly animated, everything she felt was obvious in her features. She was a horrible poker player, but it was one of his favorite things about her.
“What? You asked me.” He grinned, and she burst out laughing.
“I like you, Andrew. You always make me smile. Um, let’s see. I love sleep, like with an unholy level of obsession. I don’t get enough probably. So I’ll sleep late, until after noon at the very least. I’ll get out of bed only long enough to make coffee and grab a fresh chocolate croissant and get right back under the covers where I’ll read the paper and maybe journal awhile. Total, utter laziness.”
The perfect Sunday if she added him to that bed. He’d be sure to bring extra croissants. “Very nice. A lazy day is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
The song wound down, and Adrian’s voice sounded. “Rennie and Ella, can you two come up here please?”
“Whoops.” Ella stood back and let go of his body. “Be back in a bit.”
He ignored her good-bye and walked toward the stage with her, waiting to the side with Brody and Todd.
Rennie spoke excitedly in a stage whisper to Adrian and Ella. Ella nodded and took her hand, drawing her into the lights more.
“Rennie would like to say her good-byes.” Ella handed the mic to Rennie, who continued to hold Ella’s hand.
“My momma said I