Was it a dream?

Simon could taste Mary. Her scent lingered in the air.

He wanted to stay wrapped in the soft cotton sheets of the hotel bed, eyes shut. Because if he opened them, it meant dealing with reality. Light tried to seep in, the sun telling him it was a new day. And with a new day would come an empty bed.

Mary would be gone. Probably leaving after fully exhausting him into the early hours of the morning. His heart fluttered as the memories of touching her, kissing her, being with her filtered across his closed eyelids. Last night had been the best night of his life, hands down. Over the years, he and Mary had taken each other to heights in their brief encounters, unlike anything he'd ever achieved with anyone else. But last night, taking their time, exploring each other, giving and taking, tasting and being tasted until they fell asleep in each other's arms had been more than he had ever dreamed possible.

But all dreams come to an end. The curtains of the hotel room were open, programmed to wake him up on a schedule set upon checked in, and there was no use denying his new reality. Two things he knew for sure. One, he was madly in love with Mary, there was no one else for him and his heart was hers for the taking. This admission, this confession, this fact, once cemented in his soul, had the strange effect of not causing him heart ache or angst. Rather, it settled in every cell of his body with a surety and almost comfort he never would have guessed possible.

Unfortunately, fact number two warred against that surety. At this very moment, lids pressed shut, everything was possible. But once he opened his eyes Mary wouldn't be here to tell fact number one to.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes opened. What Simon saw took his breath away.

Before him was the visage of an angel, big eyes the colour of a cloudless sky, petite nose, kissable lips and golden hair, wild and wonderful in its disarray. His heart swelled at the sight of Mary. In his bed. She'd stayed the night. He blinked, but the mirage didn't vanish.

The vision spoke.

"At last. I'm starving."

Even though his heart was in his throat, Simon managed a smile at Mary's words. The woman always knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it. One of the many things he loved about her. To give himself time to find his voice, Simon reached out and twirled a strand of her flaxen hair around his forefinger. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Well, we can't have that."

To his surprise, Mary leaned forward and kissed him. The contact soft and sweet. As the hairs on his arms stood up, he wondered for a moment exactly what she was hungry for. As if reading his mind, Mary withdrew and sat up, pulling the sheet with her to cover her naked chest. Lucky sheet.

"Can we order room service?"

With a nod, he reached for the remote, turned on the TV, and found the room service screen. "What do you want?"

He watched the white letters forming breakfast options reflect in the pupils of Mary's eyes as he scrolled down. A light touch on his hand made him stop.

"Ooh, waffles sound good. Do you want waffles?" She turned to look at him, and Simon's heart skipped a beat. So this is what Mary Montgomery was like in the morning, effervescent like champagne, hungry like a wolf and as beautiful as a goddess. Could every morning be like this? Waking up with Mary in his bed.

"I like waffles."

She pursed her lips. "I didn't ask what you like. I asked what you want."

"I want what you want."

Her face fell into a deeper scowl, and Simon's heart galloped for all the wrong reasons. Afraid to further upset her, he searched for a way to return to the hazy happiness of moments ago. He tentatively touched the small of her back.

"I want you to be happy." Mary opened her mouth to say something, but he continued. "And I want the brioche French toast with orange honey flavoured custard. Who says we can't have the best of both worlds?"

Her eyes narrowed, then relaxed. "Can we?"

"Of course. There's nothing stopping us." For some reason, he wasn't sure they were just talking about breakfast anymore. The words seem to have double meaning, but he didn't know what the subtext was, nor did he really care. Here, in this room, or anywhere else, from his point of view everything seemed possible and there was nothing stopping them from having what they wanted.

Mary sank into the bed beside him, resting her head on his chest. "Okay."

"To waffles and French toast?"

"Yes." She ran a finger down the center of his abs and his blood heated. Simon swallowed, trying to concentrate on ordering the food and not on what Mary's fingers were doing to him. He almost missed her next request. "And eggs and bacon?"

"Protein is a good idea." In between the light strokes on his torso, he managed to complete the breakfast order, including freshly squeezed orange juice and a pot of coffee. "It says it could take forty minutes to get here."

"How will we pass the time?" Her hand slid further down and wrapped around his awake and alert erection. "Hmm. Let's make use of this, shall we?"

For the second time this morning Simon found himself unable to speak, his brain too occupied by what her hand was doing. Before he gave into his desire, he reached for the side table, searching for a condom. He came up empty.

"No." The word rumbled out of him in a growl.

Mary froze for an instant before her hand flinched, released him, and she started shifting away. Through the fog of desire, he realized how she must have interpreted his outburst, and Simon clamped his arms around her to hold her to him. Her body rigid in his embrace, her face turned away from him.

"Not that. Never that." He squeezed, and she stopped pulling at his arms but refused to face him. "We don't have any condoms left. That's all."

He kissed the top of her head, released the grip of one hand enough to rub her arm and, moving the other to her waist, he tucked her into him. After a millennium she softened, her stiff body relenting to his request but not quite relaxing against his. He found her hand and brought it to his lips, peppering it with kisses.

"There are other things we could do." Her voice was barely above a whisper and trepidation laced her words. Simon didn't know what to say.

"But I want to... do what we started." He wasn't sure, but he may have felt her smile where her cheek pressed against his chest. "Very much."

"Do you always use a condom?"

"Yes."

"Even with the last girl?"

Simon laughed. "The last girl was you."

Mary lifted her head off his chest and looked at him. "But the woman in the bar?"

"Sorry?"

"The pretty brunette. You two obviously have a connection."

Understanding dawned on Simon. "Ah, you mean Hope. A long time ago we... dated. But there hasn't been anyone since-" he was going to have to admit it. And why not? "-since after Emily returned from Columbia." When his brother called from the hospital, asking him to bring their mother's engagement ring to him, the last thing Simon had expected was to see Mary. By sheer chance, their fingers brushed as Simon passed a bouquet he bought for Emily to her sister, and from that moment on, Simon couldn't think of touching another woman.

"No one?" Mary's eyebrow arched again.

He shook his head. And asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. "And you?"

"Use a condom? Always." She didn't exactly answer the question he asked. Her foot slid along his leg, causing a slow burn to churn in his stomach as she molded herself to him. "I'm also on birth control."

Did she mean what he thought she meant? Simon let go of her hand and caressed her cheek. "We don't have to."

A shy little smile graced her face and made his heart threaten to burst out of his chest. "But I want to." In one fluid movement, she swung her leg over his body to straddle him. With a hand pressed into the mattress on either side of his head, Mary dipped down and nibbled on his ear. "And you said I could have whatever I want."

As his lips found hers, fingers griped her hips. Taut nipples grazed his chest, and the fire ignited again. She broke the kiss, sucked on his neck, licked the hollow at the top of his sternum and nuzzled his chest.

Another growl, desire this time, erupted as she eased him inside her. Once she had all of him, they lavished in the moment, not moving, just breathing. The sensation of Mary around him, unencumbered, nothing separating them made him feel complete in a way he'd never felt before.

Slowly Mary stirred, arching her back as she glided above him, the motion sending sparks up his spine. Simon let her set the pace, control the sweet rise and descent, drinking in every sensation. They were one in mind, body, and soul.

Too soon, the pressure to release mounted. He resisted, marvelling in the expression of pure pleasure he saw on Mary's face and the small moans of his name gasping from her lips. To be the cause of her happiness, her ecstasy was all he ever wanted. Biting his lower lip, he tried to hold out as long as possible, giving Mary time to reach her climax first, but when she met his gaze, the light in her eyes hit him so hard he felt himself let go. Fireworks exploded in his mind and body as Mary matched his cry of bliss.

Spent and full of endorphins, he pulled Mary, who had collapsed on his chest, into his arms, and held her as her body trembled with aftershocks. He sketched figure eights on her arms, her back, her cheek as their breaths returned to normal, the heat cooling between them.

"I love..." Mary's voice faltered, and Simon had the impression she meant to say something different but corrected herself, "your hands."

He kissed her warm forehead. "I love your hands too."

Wide eyes met his. "I love your lips." This time, her voice rang with confidence.

"I love your lips too." He'd happily tell her he loved every part of her body.

But the routine didn't continue as she stopped his lips with a kiss. A slow, lazy kiss that ended with a satisfied sigh as Mary nuzzled against him. In his arms, she drifted into a light sleep.

Simon had to pry himself away from Mary to answer the door and let the attendant in with their food. With as little noise as he could muster, Simon poured two cups of coffee, adding one sugar and one cream for Mary. Placing her cup on the nightstand, he eased himself onto the bed beside a sleeping Mary.

With her smudged mascara and lips bare but rosey from their kisses, Simon sat and watched her breath, content and happy. As he leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, he thought about their earlier exchanges of I loves. Mary hadn't said she loved him, just his hands and his lips. And he hadn't told her he loved her. But was it there, unsaid?

"Simon says love me." The words tumbled from his mouth and he sucked in air, half hoping she was awake and would acknowledge his plea, half dreading the rejection. Mary's chest continued its slow rise and fall, and the moment passed.

Reluctantly, Simon shook his sleeping beauty. "Mary, time to wake up."  

Hello everyone. D. L. Croisette here. A big thanks for reading this story. Do you think Mary and Simon have a chance? Or are they living in a New York bubble?

Have you been to New York? I've been a few times and every trip feels different. Wonder if I'll ever get to see the whole city.

A little announcement. As you may have seen this week, Amazon launched a new reading experience called Kindle Vella. GalaRu57 asked if I want to write something to give it a try. And WE Blend, a love story full of romance, music and secrets came to be. 

I'd love to know what you think of the story and the platform. You can binge WE Blend for free using the link in the comment here. -------->

Let me know if you decide to take a read.