I felt the covers slide down my body then a hand light on the small of my back. It was so warm it was hot, like the blood that ran through its veins went faster than the blood of any average man.
If this was true, it wouldn't surprise me.
I opened my eyes and it was dark. It was always dark when he visited me.
I had a moment like every moment I had when he showed. A moment of sanity. A moment where my mind said to close my eyes and open my mouth and tell him to go away.
But if I did, I knew he would. He wouldn't say a word. As silently as he came, he'd leave.
And he'd never come back.
But this was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. The sane thing to do.
And I was thinking of doing it, honest to God, I was. I thought about doing it every time.
Then I felt his weight hit the bed, his body stretching out beside mine, he turned me into him, I opened my mouth to speak and before I could do the sane thing, his mouth was on mine.
And for the next two hours, I didn't think at all.
But I felt. I felt a lot.
And all of it was good.
* * * * *
It was still dark when his shadow moved in the room.
I lay in bed and watched him move. He didn't make a noise. It was weird. There was a rustle of clothes but other than that, silence.
Even as a shadow, I saw he had masculine grace. Powerful masculine grace. That was weird too. Just my mystery man putting on clothes was like watching a badass, macho dance if there was such a thing. Of course, there wasn't except in my bedroom when he came to visit. No, when he was getting ready to leave.
It was so fascinating I should sell tickets. But if I did, I'd have to share. I probably already shared with half of Denver, all of them getting their own private show. That already messed with my head enough, that and the fact that he came at all, I let him come, then he made me come after which he came. Then, often, like tonight, repeat.
I wasn't real hot on sharing any more than I already likely did.
He moved to the bed and I watched that too. He bent low, I felt the heat of his hand on my knee, his fingers curling around the back and he lightly kissed my hip, his lips skimming across my skin, making it tingle. Then he slid the covers up my body to my waist where he dropped them.
I was mostly on my belly, partly on my side, my arm crooked, hand tucked under my face on the pillow. His body moved in that direction, his fingers slid under my hair, pulling it gently back and his lips came to my ear.
"Later, babe," he whispered.
"Later," I whispered back.
His head moved infinitesimally and his lips skimmed the skin at the back of my ear then his tongue touched there. That made my skin tingle too, so much my whole body shivered.
He pulled the covers up to my shoulder.
Then he turned and he was gone.
No noise, not even the door opening and closing. He was just gone. Like he'd never even been there.
Freaking crazy.
I stared at my bedroom door awhile. My body felt warm, sated and tired. My mind did not feel the same.
I turned to my back, tucked the covers around my naked body and I stared at the ceiling.
I didn't even know his name.
"God," I whispered, "I am such a slut."