Marissa saw him, hurriedly putting on his t-shirt and pulling up his jeans.
"Wh-where are you going?" she asked him in disappointment, "Is everything good?"
"Just a small task. I'll be back just like that," he snapped his fingers and kissed her forehead, "You wait for me… and …" he trailed off gathering her in his arms, tightening his grip around her.
"Whenever you are around, I don't want to do anything, Marissa Sinclair except to kiss you or hug you or tease you or…"
"Or?" her voice was muffled in his shirt before she pulled back to watch his face.
His eyes were busy tracing the contours of her face, "Or simply look at you," he mumbled placing his chin on her head, "You're very precious to me and I waited a lot for you."
Marissa felt a wave of dread wash over her. It was almost like… like he was expressing his love to her. She wished he could ditch that surprise crap and tell her whatever was in his heart.
