because the bedroom was light and airy with floor-to-ceiling curtains that would, when fully closed, block out most of the intense brightness, and with a bed that looked like Adam and I could take part in rhythmic gymnastics on it, but because of the view.
We had a one-eighty view of the ocean, and I knew, when I woke up, with only a twitch of my head, I’d be able to see it.
“You should live near the ocean,” Adam murmured, when he moved me around to the right side of the bed to lay me down.
“I intend to,” I told him absently, my gaze on the water.
He sighed, even as he bowed over slightly to tug the covers out of the way, before he slipped me onto the bedsheet.
The thick duvet was a bright coral color, the sheets were gray, and so were the layers of pillows behind me, but they were different shades of it.
I blinked up at him, aware of the bright white towel against my skin in contrast to the gray.
“You didn’t take my towel off,” I muttered, and I wasn’t even going for guile.
Though a muscle flicked in his cheek, he instructed, “Lift your butt.”
I did as bid, and he quickly tugged the loose knot between my breasts away and whipped off the towel.
His eyes darkened as he took me in before he gritted his teeth and covered me with the sheet.
My lips curved because, even though I felt bony and awkward and a little too muscular, Adam never failed to look at me as though I was a Sports Illustrated model.
I kept my gaze glued to him, hoping to catch a similar show, but I didn’t. He dragged the curtains closed even though I protested, “I want to see the ocean!”
“You can see it in the morning,” he retorted. “I want you to sleep.”
I blew out a raspberry. “Being a dad has made you even bossier than before.”
He snorted, then when we were in the semi-dark, I heard a rustle and knew he’d dropped his towel.
“No fair,” I muttered. “I didn’t get to see anything.”
“You’ll just have to feel it then, won’t you?” he countered, as I felt a gust of air when the sheets on the other side of the bed were lifted.
It was a big bed. If I stayed on my side, I wouldn’t touch him.
At all.
Which was no fun.
Seemed he agreed because, within seconds, we shuffled toward the center and into each other’s arms.
I wasn’t one for sleeping with a crick in my neck just so I could stay close, but for the moment, I was happy for our bodies to brush, for our arms and legs to be tangled.
I sighed at the warmth exuding from him and pressed a kiss to his pec.
“We’ve done this so few times,” he rasped.
And I closed my eyes, because he was right.
“I think I can count on two hands how many times we’ve slept like this.”
Probably not even that.
Though I caved in from time to time, and we slept together in both the literal sense as well as the sexual, it wasn’t often.
I was stubborn, and where Adam’s safety was concerned, even more obstinate than usual.
You didn’t get where I was in the U.S. Swim Team without an inner core of steel, and I had that in spades.
But that meant, also, that there were too few of these memories, and that was one of the reasons I was caving in now.
I wanted this.
I needed it.
I was going to recharge my batteries, absorb all of Adam that I could, before I had to start over again.
He muttered, “Stop thinking about when this is over.”
My lips twitched. “I love that you know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re easy to read,” he retorted. “I’m going nowhere, Thea. Neither are you.”
There was a warning in that response, but I decided to ignore it. “We’re going to live in Broadbeach, are we?”
“Smart ass,” he rumbled, and I wasn’t surprised when he tapped my ass.
“Yes, it’s very intelligent,” I teased.
“It’s fucking beautiful, is what it is,” he grumbled. “I want to bite it.”
“I’m sure you will. In time.” My smile deepened at the prospect, and I twisted my face so I was breathing in air that scented of him.
“I’m tired,” I whispered.
“I know. Sleep.”
“Too tired.”
He snorted. “You’re a brat.”
“Maybe.” I kissed his pec, this time letting my tongue dart out. “I want you in a bed for once. Not against the wall or against the desk or—”