He's the One Read Online Free Page A

mind-blowing, and then an orgasm was rippling through her and he was reaching his own climax and arching his back, holding her tightly as he came, burying his face against her shoulder.
    There was a moment when they held each other tightly, hardly able to believe the intensity of what they had shared. Then he looked up at her. ‘That was incredible,’ he murmured
    It was incredible. She had never slept with someone on the first night she had met them, but with Cory it had felt so completely right. It would have felt wrong not to.
    They lay together, bathed in the soft orange glow of the streetlight outside the window. She didn’t want to go, she wanted to stay with him, feel his skin against hers. She felt blissed out, relaxed, and couldn’t even remember when she had last felt like this – or if she had ever felt like this.
    He kissed her and said, ‘I’ve got such a good feeling about you, Liberty.’
    ‘So will you still remember my name tomorrow?’ she teased. ‘Or will I be that waitress girl you met in Brighton?’
    He shook his head. ‘I would never forget you.’
    Somehow she believed him. She didn’t think she would ever forget him either.
    He made them both cups of tea and thick slices of toast – he had Marmite on his and she had jam on hers and she refused to kiss him afterwards until he hadcleaned his teeth, protesting that she hated the taste of Marmite.
    ‘I’ll throw it away and never have it again,’ he promised.
    They talked some more. She wanted to hear about his travelling: his descriptions of the places he had been; the people he had met. It was all fascinating to her. He couldn’t believe that she had only ever been to Spain and France. And France had only been a day trip to Dieppe with the school, where they had gone round a supermarché and watched their teachers stock up on cheese and duty-free wine, then walked aimlessly round the old town in the rain before boarding the ferry back to Newhaven. She felt as if she hadn’t lived compared to Cory.
    ‘I never seem able to afford to go abroad,’ Liberty told him. As a single mother, foreign holidays had been out of the question so far. She could barely even afford to take time off and go camping for a week. She changed the subject after that.
    ‘So will you let me draw you now?’ asked Cory, reaching for his sketchpad and a pencil.
    ‘But I’m such a mess!’ she exclaimed, aware that her make up must have rubbed off, that her hair was cascading wildly over her shoulders, that she was naked except for a white t-shirt of his that she had slipped on.
    ‘You’re perfect. Except the t-shirt has to go.’ When she didn’t make a move, he added, ‘I dare you.’
    Usually she would have felt self-conscious about being completely naked in front of someone, even someone she’d just slept with, but again she had that reckless feeling. Why not?
    Holding his gaze, she sat up and slowly pulled off the garment, then lay on the sofa, reclining on her side, propping her head up on one hand.
    ‘Will this do?’
    He nodded and began drawing. She felt as if every part of her was being observed, and instead of feeling awkward as a result, she felt powerful, sexy and desired. He drew with intense concentration for half an hour, without saying a word. Then he closed the sketchpad and threw it on to the floor.
    ‘Hey, can’t I see the picture?’ Liberty demanded, sitting up and wincing as she rubbed an arm that had gone numb from being too long in the same position.
    ‘I never show off my work until I’ve finished,’ he replied. ‘It’s a superstition of mine.’
    ‘But I want to see it!’ Liberty protested. ‘I’ve been lying here for ages! It was so boring. And then I nearly got the giggles because I remembered that scene in Titanic when Leo paints Kate Winslet and she’s naked except for a huge blue-diamond necklace.’
    ‘Poor baby, I’ll make it up to you, though I can’t promise the necklace,’ he teased. And, ducking down, he