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Exhausted, I slump onto the tabletop, my legs limp in Viper’s hands. With another chuckle, he draws my eyes back to his face. Holy hell. That was amazing. Whatwasthat? Where did it come from? What does it mean? Hell, I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?
VIPER
Letting out a long breath, I lift my head, my eyes opening and burning down at Naomi. She blinks up at me like a deer in the headlights. With another chuckle, I slip out of her, striding into the kitchen to dispose of the condom. Thank fuck I always keep one in my jeans. Hey, you never know. Look how lucky I got tonight.
Tying off the condom, I throw it in the trash, tucking my dick away and zipping up my jeans. While I’m in here, I grab a beer from the fridge. I don’t bother getting Naomi one. I haven’t seen her drink beer. I don’t know if she does.
Walking back through the archway, my eyes land on Naomi, fully clothed again and sitting at the table. Her back is to me, and she is looking at her phone. Again.
My teeth grind together as I stride over to her. I can see her phone screen. She’s still looking at the damn rental website. Did she not fucking understand what the hell happened on this table? I thought it was pretty fucking obvious.
Setting my beer down on the table to her right, I reach over, plucking the phone from her fingers. She looks up at me in surprise, her frown clearing. I close the browser, delete her history, and hand the phone back to her.
She takes it silently, a question in her eyes. Jesus. I have to make myself clear, don’t I?
“Not fucking happening, Peaches,” I grunt, jabbing my finger at the hallway through to the bedrooms, the edge of her door visible from where I’m standing. “You live in there.”
Naomi stares at me, her eyes huge and wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. Nodding slowly, she jumps up, clutching her phone to her chest.
“Goodnight, Viper,” she mumbles, scampering off to her bedroom before I can even open my mouth.
Shrugging, I snag my beer as her door snaps shut, walk over to the leather couch, drop onto it, and prop my feet up on the heavy wooden coffee table.
Snatching up the remote, I flick on some random game, throwing the remote onto the table and sipping my beer. My eyes flicker around the room. It’s the same as it always has been.
Mom took all her shit when she moved to the coast. But she bought some stuff to replace it, so I didn’t look like I was squatting. I gave her my credit card, and the woman went to town.
I like my stuff. It’s all heavy and masculine. I don’t feel like I will spin around and break something. Or like I’m going to get in trouble for putting my motorcycle boots on the coffee table.
It doesn’t suit Peaches all that much. Frowning, I look around again, the ESPN commentators droning on in the background. Maybe I should tell her to buy some of those decorative pillows and knick-knacks Lena Shaw has all over their house? Then perhaps she would get it out of her head that she needs to find somewhere else to live.
If she moves, how the fuck am I supposed to keep an eye on her? Besides, now I’ve tasted her, I’m not about to give her up. That’s not an option. Peaches tastes as innocent and sweet as she smells. Her face when I fucked her was a thing of beauty. I need to see it again.
Chapter 8
NAOMI
The light streams through my window, dappling across my face as I blink awake. I’m seriously becoming used to waking up like this. It’s nice. I have no idea why I never put my bed beneath a window before.
As I blink awake, silence swirls around me. I’m aching in the most pleasant way between my thighs, reminding me how Viper completely and thoroughlyownedme last night.
I stare at the ceiling in my surprisingly feminine room again. It’s in direct contrast to the rest of the house – including the bathroom – which is heavily masculine. I have no idea what he means bynot fucking happening.
Does he mean thatheis going to organize another place for me to live? Or that I should move in with someone else from the Wild Hawks?
My cheeks heat as I remember him moving inside me, and histongue. Oh my stars. I have never come so hard before in my life. I have certainly never come from oral sex. Usually, in my experience, oral sex is a few licks before the main event, which is then held over your head as a reason you have to give a blowjob to completion.
When I finally emerge, the house is silent and still. I creep into the shower, letting the hot water stream over me, maybe reliving our glorious moment from last night.
Shutting off the water, I towel myself dry, dress, pull my hair back, and set my glasses onto the bridge of my nose. My hand closes around the knob, and the bathroom door swings open, but there’s still no other noise in the house. Viper must still be asleep.
My cheeks flame as my eyes land on the dining table. I can’t stay here. I’ll overthink it and act weird when he wakes up. Grabbing my purse, I sling it across my chest and let myself out of the house.
I never did arrange to buy a secondhand car, so my legs will have to carry me. Luckily, I’m much closer to Downtown than my old house. There is a diner near the building Lisa – who answers the phones – lives in.
The bubbly blonde waitress waves at me as I walk in. “Hi! Sit anywhere. I’ll bring over a menu. Coffee?”
“The largest cup you have.”
