Page 72 of Not Since Ewe
Annoyed, I flipped the phone facedown and pushed it beyond my peripheral vision.
Tess was probably working, like I should be doing. That was why she hadn’t responded right away. She might be on a conference call. Or trying to concentrate. She’d reply when she had time.
I was worried now though. Was I coming on too strong? Maybe Tess needed some time apart after our weekend-long sex marathon.
The buzz of my phone on the desk startled the shit out of me. I scrambled for it, grinning when I saw Tess’s reply.
Tess: What time?
Donal: 7:00?
Tess: That works.
Tess: I like sushi.
I tried to wipe the grin off my face as I wandered out to Debra’s desk. “Would you block off my calendar tonight starting at six thirty?”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly as she turned her attention to her computer. “Block it off for what?”
“Personal business.”
“Done.”
“Also, do you know of a good sushi restaurant around here where I can get a table on short notice?”
Debra’s mouth curved in a knowing smile. “I’m sure I can find something. Would you like me to make you a reservation?”
“That’d be great. Tonight at seven.”
She reached for her mouse, bringing up her browser menu. “How many people?”
“Two.”
Her smile got even wider. “Two people. Got it.”
“Don’t look so smug.”
“Who, me?” Her smile didn’t waver. “Never.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
TESS
Everything was a lot, and it was only Tuesday.
Things with Donal had progressed way more quickly than I was used to. Like light speed fast. And yet I couldn’t bring myself to suggest putting the brakes on.
We’d spent the last four nights in a row together. The whole night. Which wasn’t something I usually did. The last time I’d slept over at a man’s house, we’d already been dating for a month. And I’d spent most of that night wide-awake and staring at the wall while he snored beside me. It had taken weeks for me to get comfortable enough with him to fall asleep in the same bed.
Not with Donal. Nope. I’d dropped right off to sleep every single night. What the hell was that about?
Maybe it was all the great sex we were having—not that I’d ever in a million years admit that to Donal. The last thing he needed was a reason to get even cockier. But there might be something to that orgasm theory of his. Either that or our vigorous bedroom activities had tired me out enough to overcome my insomnia.
But it felt like something more than that.
Being with Donal felt different. There was something about having his arms around me. His warm skin pressed against mine. The soft, steady murmur of his breathing in my ear. It lulled me into a state of contentment. Sure, the post-orgasm haze didn’t hurt either. But there was something in Donal’s presence that calmed me. Instead of feeling trapped or claustrophobic, the way I usually did when a man draped himself over me, I felt comfortable in Donal’s arms. Safe. Like I was where I was supposed to be.
When I was with him, I didn’t feel like I was all alone in the world.
