Lincoln
*A Couple Of Hours Later*
I don’t want to wake up. I’m warm; comfortable. Carlos will be home soon...
Carlos!
My eyes pop open and land on his smiling face lying next to mine; his arms wrapping around my waist and tugging me close until our naked limbs twine with familiarity in the center of our bed.
“Hi,” he whispers, his face encased in shadows and moonlight.
“Hi,” I grumble back, voice rough from sleep.
We both lean in until our lips brush; open. Tongues twine in that dance they know so well, accompanied by the music of our groans; moans. The tightening of arms and legs pulling each other closer.
I break the kiss.
“Terri-” I begin.
He interrupts, “Isn’t here tonight. Let me sing for you, Lovers. God, I’ve missed it.”
Instantly, I’m awake. And not just my brain as blood flows south.
“She’s not here?” I have to be sure.
My Lovers’ smile widens as he reaffirms, “Just us.”
That’s all I need to hear before lustful instinct takes over.
*The Next Morning*
I’ve gotten used to waking up in my Lovers’ arms. For whatever reason, he always sleeps later than me and its made the waking process a slow, leisurely crawl to consciousness. One that’s left a smile to my face day after day.
But.
Today, I wake up to cooling sheets and the absence of his presence.
Climbing out of the blankets, I don’t care to put on clothes knowing we’re alone, and walk out of the bedroom door even as I call out, “Carlos,” in a questioning voice.
No response, so I repeat, a bit louder, “Carlos?”
Except the house is silent.
Making my way to the living room, I peer out the front window and catch sight of the driveway; also empty.
He left?
Confused, I trek my way back to the bedroom and dress myself in jeans and a blue t-shirt that does little to cover the tattoo sleeves on my arms. Then I go to the kitchen; take care of Zip’s bowls. Once he’s happily chowing down, I go to the table and pick up my phone.
No texts.
Where the fuck did he go?
Rather than focus on it, I head back down the hall to my home office. Sit myself behind the desk; turn on the monitor to my computer. Click the folder and re-read the document I’d given to Rich a couple of days ago. He’d finally agreed to look at the damn thing.
I get lost in the verbiage when I hear
CLICK
Heart racing, I jump out of my seat and race down the hall just as Carlos walks in, head down, with a bag of groceries(?), and an obvious cup of coffee in his hand.
“Carlos,” I question. Because my man doesn’t drink coffee.
Then I melt in his smile; his swirling caramel gaze, “I thought to surprise you.” He holds out the hot cup, which I take; instantly warms my hands.
DU LIEST GERADE
This Is Me (Cover Girlfriend, Book Three)
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