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Char was right, I do need this.
Still, I hardly recognize myself. The way my body is reacting to him is foreign to me. I don’t even know his last name, and he’s got me showing parts of myself I’ve exposed to few.
“I’m going to need you to talk to me, princess,” he says, pulling back and watching his fingers pumping in and out of me at the perfect pace.
“That…” I’m nervous to be so intimate with someone I hardly know. Am I supposed to just say what I’m feeling? Do I act like my normal, sexual self? “That feels—”
My throat catches when I hear a door open down the hall.
Chapter Five
December 23rd
“ThisisRyan’sroom.He’s at his grandparents’ for the night.”
My eyes widen at the sound of Rowan’s voice. My eyes lock on Lorenzo’s equally surprised look, but his are missing the terror I feel. He pulls his fingers out of me and brings the index finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet.
“Obviously,” I mouth.
Then, my jaw drops when he licks both fingers clean.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to audibly react tothat. He quietly scoots off the bed and motions for me to join him. He opens the closet and nods for me to enter first.
He’s about to take a step in when he looks back and dashes to the door. He turns the lock, my anxiety shooting sky high with the idea of Rowan walking in here. And finding us. My throat constricts, panic overtaking me.
Lorenzo joins me, slowly and soundlessly closing the door. Thankfully, there’s nothing in here except for a box in the corner. My heart feels as though it will beat out of my chest. I try to see how Lorenzo is handling this, but it’s too dark to make anything out.
My eyes finally adjust as I hear light footsteps in the neighboring room. A muffled voice speaks, but I can’t make out who it belongs to. Hell, I might not even know who that is. The door snaps shut and I let out a breath before inhaling and holding.
We’re the next room up, if they plan on seeing it. I didn’t even look at the bed to make sure we didn’t leave any evidence. My hands are clammy and my heart hasn’t settled in the least bit.
I nearly scream when Lorenzo’s hands land on my waist and he pulls me to him. My back is to his front, and he squeezes me in what I assume is reassurance. That’s what I’m needing, at least.
He places a gentle kiss atop my head, reminiscent of the one he placed after I’d assaulted my ex. It feels like too much for what he’s claiming this is, but there’s no time to think about that now.
My senses are heightened, trying to pick up any noise that indicates they’re coming this way. I hear footsteps, but I can’t tell if they’re getting closer or farther away. I’ve never had any experience with this, why the hell should I know?!
Lorenzo squeezes me again, and the door opens. A second later, the light switch flips on. I lean up to look at Lorenzo as Rowan speaks.
“This is the guest bedroom, which is where it’s all usually at.”
Where what’s at?
“Moved it for the party?” an unrecognizable male voice says.
Not that I give too much thought into who it is. No, I’m distracted with the look on Lorenzo’s face. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark and the light is peeking in through the cracks in the bi-fold doors, I see the humor etched into his face. His dimples are deepened and his eyebrows are raised as though we’re watching a movie and not hiding in the closet of our boss’s house. If he wouldn’t be heard, I’m certain he’d be snickering.
I’m hooking up with a loon.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan replies. “Can’t have…” His voice floats away when I hear the door shut, silently killing me because the light was left on. I pray that they return downstairs and don’t go down the hallway extending past Rowan’s room. It wraps around the living room, so they’d have to come back this way to go downstairs.
Rowan’s words are muffled, and I’d likely be able to make them out if I focused, but I have a more pertinent issue to deal with. I turn and rip Lorenzo’s hands off of me.
“We’re done!” I whisper in the lowest voice I can use. He’s staring at my mouth, probably trying to figure out what the hell I just said.
He brings a finger to his lips, shushing me. The image of him cleaning me off of him just moments ago has me wanting to feel him again, which irks me more. I cross my arms and huff, then remember I need to keep silent when his smile falters and he gives me a serious look. I hold my breath and don’t move a centimeter as I keep my ears peeled.
“About five years,” Rowan replies. I think his voice is closer to us, but I can’t be sure. I continue to listen to the footsteps, and when I’m certain they’re walking back down the stairs, I pull open the closet with less care than I should exercise. I’m fixing my dress as Lorenzo steps out.
