Page 93 of Silver Player

Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Grumpy.

While the fantasy of him in only his boxers isn’t dead, I wouldn’t be upset with him wearing only those pajama bottoms hugging his backside, accentuating the firmness with each movement of his legs.

This gives me an idea.

+ + +

Making my way to the kitchen as quietly as I can, Billy has his back to me, flipping pancakes on the stove. He’s removed his sweatshirt but remains in the plaid bottoms. His backside is so fine it’s a crime, and I take a deep breath, clear my throat, and then lean on the opening between the dining room and the kitchen.

Billy stills, spatula in hand. “Look,” he starts without turning to me. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just crabby when it’s so early, and I haven’t had any cof—”

His words halt as he turns to face me. Spatula still in hand, raised slightly and outward. He looks like a hot pastry chef minus the pastries.

“Roxie,” he breathes.

“Was this the fantasy?” I stand before him in the knee-high boots and his tee. My fingers twist in the cotton material, not feeling nearly as brave as I did a moment ago. He gulps, eyes wide on me. “I just wanted one more time,” I whisper. One more time before we need to go back to thinking about Sadie and her future and what that means for both of us.

His eyes appraise me until he squints. “Whatcha got under there?”

I shake my head once.

Exhaling, he sets the spatula on the island and turns off the stove. The look in his eyes almost frightens me. It’s so direct and intense and focused. It matches my feelings for him. Direct. Intense. Focused. I want us to continue like we did last night. This relationship has grown more than casual and crossed the line to complicated.

For some reason, I twist and walk quickly away from him, despite the high-heeled boots and the lack of underwear. Billy chases, and I squeal. He easily catches up to me just inside his bedroom and pins me to the wall.

“You tease,” he groans at my ear, flattening my chest to the plaster. Outlined through the thinness of his pajama pants, he protrudes into my backside, barely covered by the length of his T-shirt. His hand slips over the curve of my ass and then under. He continues forward until two fingers impale me. I cry out, and he stills.

“Is this what you want?”

I want you. The words remain in my throat. My hand slapping on the wall is my only response. I want everything from him. This is more than his body and casual sex. I want his thoughts. His heart. His soul.

I made love to you.

But does he love me?

Or is he using pretty words to dress up what we are doing?

“Fuck, Roxie. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I don’t. I only know what he’s doing to me. He’s marking himself on my heart, and I won’t be able to walk away easily. I can’t stay in the casual zone. I won’t be able to just stay friends, a united front before Sadie, if this all goes sour.

I haven’t answered him, his fingers distracting me as they slide back and forth where I’m wet and ready for him. Behind me, he struggles to lower his pajama pants with one hand. He isn’t wearing boxer briefs underneath the flannel. His foot kicks at my heels, forcing me to spread my feet.

“Tell me how you feel?”

“I…” I can’t think. His fingers and then the length of him, warm and thick against my backside, mean I can’t string together any words. Billy stills. A strange shift occurs that I can’t read as he holds out for an answer I haven’t given him yet.

Then he bites my shoulder—hard. “Forget it,” he mutters into my skin as his fingers return to their thrusting.

“You wanted it to be you against a wall?” His voice turns bitter.

My mind races to what I saw years ago. Him. Her. A brick wall. “Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you like I fuck the rest.”

What?

Why is he saying this? Why is he comparing me? What is he doing to me? My heart clenches, but my body gives in to him. Does he not see it’s so much more than sex against a wall I want from him? I want to be the woman who makes him lose his mind but gain his heart. This isn’t some joke to me.

“I always knew I’d get you to beg, Roxie.” He bitterly chuckles, but I don’t find the humor. I smack at the wall, my cheek pressed against it.