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“Babe, I don’t write the playbook.”
“You’re a man. You’ve basically written the text.”
He chuckles. “Let’s put this on ice so I can save my ass. I don’t care how many men you could have had or had; that’s your prerogative. I’m only saying, I like the fact I’m going to be your real sort of first. Better?” he asks, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb.
“Okay, asshole,” I mutter, loving every minute of this little exchange.
“So four days?” he says. “The clock is ticking, and I’m about to burst out of my boxers, so let’s begin.”
I laugh, my head falling back as he hovers above me, smiling and staring into my eyes. I brush his hair back, tracing the line of his square jaw with my lips. I like the little cleft in his chin. I like the scruff on his jaw. Hell, the guy is beautiful and a pain in the ass at the same time.
“What’s that smile?” he asks, when I didn’t even know I was doing it. He runs his stubble over my neck, and his breath makes me break out in goosebumps.
“The things that come out of your mouth. You look like such a player, but you’re actually far from it.”
He keeps staring at me. “I don’t know if that was a compliment or an insult.”
“You pick.” I laugh, laying my palm flat against his chiseled chest.
“Well, I’m everything you just said. But like everyone, there are layers, babe. I show no one. Maybe to some of my friends, but that’s it.”
“So we are establishing I’m your friend now?” I ask, snuggling into his body.
“Yeah, and friends fuck, so let’s get it on.” He snickers, swirling his hips against mine.
“Friends do not fuck.”
“My boxers are about to fucking rip. Let’s get this show on the road. I would ask if you usually talk so much before and during sex, but then again, I’m your real first, second.” He laughs and waggles his brows.
“You are an—”
“Go ahead and finish your sentence, Ace of Spades. Find out what happens,” he taunts. “Perhaps you’d like to get a little red ass in the process.”
I shake my head, my breath hitching, thinking about the way his hand would leave a mark on my butt. He places his palm flat over my pussy, rubbing back and forth, and my clit twitches. “Good to know you’d like to find out what that’s like,” he says, raising one brow, almost like a dare. “What was it that you called me the first time we met?”
“I’ve made a promise to myself. From now on, I’m only going to call you an asshole in my head. You like it too much.”
“Babe, that warms my heart,” he says, kissing below my jaw as my hands travel into his hair, pulling on the strands. He takes possession of my mouth, and I lose my train of thought.
“Let’s get it on.” I chuckle when he kisses me. “I’ve never been this fucking hard before, even with your talking, which I like more than I probably should.”
My phone starts buzzing on the nightstand, and we both look at it while Post Malone’s Blame It On Me echoes through the room.
“Hold that thought,” I tell him, reaching for my phone. “Could be work or the girl who keeps my website up and running. Wouldn’t be the first time something went wrong when I had a sale going on.”
He sighs, rolling off me. I take the call, not looking at the caller ID.
“Hey, Lem, what are you doing?” Shane asks. And while his voice used to get my heart racing, now I feel nothing. I sit up, grab my shirt, and pull it over my head. Jesse frowns at me, not saying anything.
“Nothing much,” I reply. Jesse gives me a look while he taps his fingers on his six-pack.
“We’re going to be there early tomorrow. You don’t have to pick me up from the hotel. I got a car service, and Cillian has rented a big ass truck for all of us and the gear,” Shane drones on as the bed dips.
“Okay, Shane, that’s great,” I say while I follow Jesse walking around the room, pulling on his pants. He grabs hiswallet and keys from the nightstand, and I think I hear him say, “Damn, Ace,” but I’m not sure.
“Do you have time to talk? I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been having some trouble at work,” Shane rambles on.
Jesse pulls his shirt over his head and shrugs on his jacket, walking toward me.
