London and Love

Chapter 33

**❤️🔥Ahead.  Thank you for reading!! I hope the story is still engaging, more action to come! 😬

I loved him. 

Not because he was a model, or muscly, or had loads of money. No, I loved him because he was normal, average, a hard working detective, not an asshole and he made me feel loved. Reasons enough I told myself, to warrant the massive affection I had coursing through my head about him. I lay in bed and felt the hard ridges under my hand and cheek. Lazily tracing every section of Trevor's chest as he slept. 

We had quick but passionate sex in the supply room earlier, after he'd given me the orgasm of my life, and then walked back to my place. I called in for dinner and then we took a very long shower, which involved more sex. And now I was supposed to be sleeping. But as my mind often did, it was racing. 

Trevor is too good to be true. 

Ugh. I really hated how my inner thoughts could try and sabotage what was going right. Nothing indicated that he was too good to be true. Nothing. 

Except the ex....and supposed kid...

Now inner me was letting her bitchy side come out. Trevor hadn't brought her up, my co-workers did. And they hadn't said it to hurt me or start drama either. So why was I fixating on this?! 

"You need to go to sleep love.." 

Shit. 

Trevor was awake. He had been laying under me, allowing me to effectively feel him up. 

"I'm sorry. It's proving hard tonight." I admitted. 

He yawned, and tightened his grip on me. 

"How could you possibly still be awake after earlier?" 

His voice was lazy and sexy. It made me love him more. And I wasn't usually so emotional like this. I'd never laid awake in the dark and contemplated my 'in love' feelings. Never. But, here we were and here I was. 

"I'm just....thinking." 

I pressed my palm roughly onto his pec. He flexed under my touch and reached for my leg, pulling it tighter on his. This sleeping position was simply the snuggest and sexiest. I felt so safe and close to him. 

"About what love?" He asked. 

"About my feelings. And you. Us." 

He was quiet and didn't move. Had I shared too much, prematurely? I knew that often guys hated when you opened up, and they didn't love discussing the relationship. At least in my limited experience. He still wasn't moving, so I tried to push off of him.  

I wasn't successful. He gripped my body and didn't let me go. 

"Where you going love?" He asked, still holding my upper body and leg in place on top of him. 

"I figured you didn't want me to talk about feelings and such..." 

He snickered and interrupted me, "Genevieve, love, you are the cutest woman..."  

He stroked my back and run his fingers across my exposed thigh. Goosebumps formed in his wake. 

"I'm fine with feelings. Or talking. Or both. Are you worried about something?" 

I wasn't worried, I was head over heels. And that alone was enough to drive me wild. How do I handle it? When do I tell him? What happens next? Those weren't things I wanted him to know yet. It would for sure scare the crap outta him.