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My eyes crackopen the next morning when the obnoxious ring of an incoming text wakes me. I reach over carefully to silence it, not wanting to wake the siren currently sprawled across my chest. The platform bed in the guesthouse may be a California king, but you’d think it was a twin with the way Daphne slept on me all night—her head on my chest, hair tickling my face, and legs tangled between mine.
The arm I’ve got around her body fell asleep hours ago, but for some reason, I haven’t moved it or her, until now. Slipping it carefully from under her body, I slide out of bed and search for my clothes among the myriad of condom wrappers littering the floor before stuffing them in the trash can. I pull my jeans up my legs and search for the extra clothes we all stashed in the closet over the first few months of the summer, throwing one of Hudson’s black Crucible t-shirts over my head.
I don’t do this.
Not the whole sleeping together thing. I mean, actually sleeping with another human beside me.
Not in a long time.
The act of sleeping in bed with another person is a level of intimacy I don’t typically allow. Plus, I usually sleep like shit alone, and adding another person to the mix never helped. At least, not before last night.
Not ready to delve into why last night was different, I check my phone and read over the incoming text from my realtor, Holly.
Holly:Got your text last night. That house just went on the market two days ago. If you want it, you need to act fast. It won’t last long. I can get us in there today at ten a.m.
Max:I’ll meet you there.
I pocket the phone and sit back down next to Daphne. It’s already nine-thirty, so we should probably get moving. I brush her soft blonde hair back from her cheek. She looks peaceful and relaxed. I almost hate to wake her up. Almost. “Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” But I enjoy feisty Daphne too.
“Go away.” Guess she’s not a morning person.
My hand dips down under the cool, white sheet and slides down to her hip, tracing the naked skin of her soft curves, wishing I had more time but knowing I’m already cutting it close. “Daphne...” My nose nuzzles her ear, and she hums in appreciation, turning her head toward me.
“It’s Sunday morning, Max. Go back to sleep.” Her long lashes fan against her skin before she slowly opens her sleepy eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s time to get up. I’ve got to meet Holly in thirty minutes. If you don’t mind coming with me, I can take you home after.” I push to my feet, knowing if I don’t get up now, we aren’t going to make it to meet the realtor. And as much as my dick loves that idea, I’ve got things to do today.
Daphne throws the sheet from her body and sits up, stretching her arms over her head. She looks around the room, cataloging the mess we made last night. “Any chance you’ve got a t-shirt tucked away somewhere around here?”
I walk back into the closet and look through the mostly men’s clothes folded on shelves, and my stomach sours, not at all happy with the idea of seeing another man’s clothes on Daphne. I search through the hangers before finding a yellow cotton sundress that one of my sister’s probably used as a swimsuit coverup at some point. Jackpot. Once I’m back in the bedroom, I hand her the dress, and a coy smile takes over her face.
“Wow.” Her lashes flutter. “You use this place so often there’s a need to stock extra clothes?” Daphne stands from the bed and slides the soft fabric over her softer skin, her perfect tits sway with the movement, as a single finger goes up in the air. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be good to go.”
I take a minute to scroll through my texts while she’s in the bathroom.
Becks:Seriously Maxipad? You ditched me for the assistant?
Sawyer:In Maximus’s defense. Did you see her? She’s hot.
Becks: I saw her. She looksLike Julianne Hough with bigger tits.
Sawyer:Who the hell is Julianne Hough?
Becks:The Dancing With The Stars chick.
Sawyer:Who the fuck are you?
Becks:Whatever. Like you’ve never watched it.
Sawyer:I haven’t because I don’t have a vagina.
Sawyer:How about you stop smoking so much weed, fuckface.
BecksYou’re just jealous my dick is bigger.
Sawyer:In your dreams.
Becks: She’s still his assistant. You don’t fuck the assistant unless you want to get sued.
