Free Between Black and Sunshine by Haven Francis Page A

her. 
    She bites her way up my neck to the back of my ear, licking the tender flesh there. Fuck. It feels good. Her tongue wanders to my ear lobe which she takes between her teeth, pulling on it. Who knew her on my ear could turn me on in so many ways. “Careful,” I tell her.
    “Why do we always have to be careful?” she whispers into my ear, setting my wet flesh into sensory overload.
    I take hold of her legs, the only part of her backside that isn’t damaged, and pull her on top of me to get her away from my ear. But that was a mistake. She’s straddled now, over my hard, throbbing dick. “That’s why,” I tell her, trying to make like I had a reason for putting her there.
    She pushes down into me and lets out a long breath. She uses her hands to push her chest off of mine and her perfect breasts are inches from my face. It takes every ounce of will power I have not to reach out and pull her perfect nipple into my mouth.
    “I don’t think it’s going to hurt me,” she whispers, her eyes meeting mine.
    “We’re not ready for that,” I say, reluctantly lifting her off of me and laying her gently on her side. “I’m not ready for that.”
    “I am ready for that,” she informs me. “But I don’t need it. I just need you. And your sweet lips.”
    That I can give her. That I can give her all day long.
    I lose myself in the warm, soft heaven that is her mouth until I hear her stomach protest. “Shit,” I say, pulling away from her, realizing that she hasn’t eaten since she’s been here. I sit up in a panic. This is exactly why I can’t get lost in her. I forget about taking care of her. I forget about everything.
    “What?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbows.
    “You’re hungry. You haven’t eaten a damn thing since you’ve been here.”
    “Calm the hell down, drama queen. I’m fine.”
    I roll my eyes at her. “You always think you’re fine. You’re not fine.” I find my work pants on the floor and throw them on. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”
    “Am I allowed to come with or do I need to stay locked in the tower?”
    “Funny,” I say, going back to my bed and finding the shirt and shorts she never put on last night. She stands and stretches, giving me a view of her insanely amazing, near-naked body.
    “You have tan lines,” I say. She never has tan lines. She’s never exposed enough to get a tan line.
    “All part of the new, improved, especially for Luca, me,” she says sarcastically.
    “I like them,” I admit as I look at the faint outline of her bikini top that is no longer there.
    “Enough to do something about it?” she challenges.
    “Maybe…” I think out loud before remembering her shrinking stomach. “Get dressed, you have to eat.”
    “Fine.” She pulls on her shorts and my old, flimsy t-shirt. I can see the outline of her large chest, her nipples pressing at the fabric. I go to my drawers and pull out a hoodie.
    “Put this on please,” I tell her politely, anticipating a confrontation and trying to end it before it happens.
    She looks down at her chest, rolls her eyes at me, but grabs the sweatshirt and pulls it over her head. I look down at her long, tan legs and move to go dig out a pair of sweats.
    “Don’t,” she warns.
    I stare at her for a hard second before grabbing her hand and pulling her out of my room. The place is quiet, the guys aren’t up. I relax a little and go to the fridge. I check the inventory. “Veggie and cheese omelet?” I offer.
    “Seriously?”
    “I can make a damn omelet,” I tell her.
    “Yes, I know. Just wondering about the veggie part,” she says, skeptically. I hate the things but she loves them. Luckily, I live with a vegan who frequents the farmers market.
    “I bought them for you.”
    “Bullshit. I’ll take the omelet if you think Miles won’t mind you stealing his food.”
    “They might be his. He’s good at sharing. Especially with pretty ladies.”
    She nods at me so I start to make her