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For a second, I think I’ve blacked.
My senses return to me as my release ebbs, but my walls refuse to let him go. Ezra groans as he comes inside me. One last rough stroke to finish our night.
We pant as our heart rates slow, and he’s cautious as he removes his weight from atop me to stand.
“Wash cloth?” he inquires, a slight smirk tilting his lips.
“Linen closet,” I rasp.
He heads toward the bathroom, and I flick the bedside lamp on, snorting when I see his back.
“What?” he asks.
I hold my hands up, showing him the blood. “Your back is red.”
“Did you erase my tattoo?”
“Maybe some of it.”
He chuckles as he disappears into the bathroom.
“Get in the shower while you’re in there,” I call after him.
“Wash your hands,” he snarks.
I scoff as I roll out of bed. “I’m getting in with you.”
“Now who’s the stalker?”
“Still you.”
Something vibrates beside me, dragging me from the beginnings of sleep. I hadn’t intended to doze off, but after the shower, Gemma wrapped around me. Our soft chatter and her laughter lulled me into a peaceful sort of calm.
It takes me a moment to realize my phone is what’s incessantly buzzing. I roll onto my back, stretching my hand toward the nightstand just as the call ends. A text chimes soon after, Quin’s name lighting up the screen.
I ignore it and groan when I see the time. It’s much later than I was thinking, and he’s most likely wondering where I am, since I told him I’d pick up takeout on the way home.
“Is that your brother?” Gemma asks.
Jasper?
I don’t know which name I should use, but I’ve noticed Riley calls her Gem and never anything else. It feels wrong to call her Gemma when I know that’s a lie, though.
“Yeah. He’s wondering why I haven’t come home yet. I was supposed to pick up a late dinner for us to eat.”
“Did you tell him you’ve already eaten?” she snarks.
“I didn’t respond.” I sit up, stretching my neck. “How long have you been lying here with your feet in my face while I slept?”
She frowns at her laptop screen. “My feet aren’t in your face, but not long? Maybe forty-five minutes. I fell asleep too, then something woke me up. Probably Lory and the guys stomping around upstairs.”
“Lory and the guys?” I inquire.
“It’s poker night,” she grumbles. “Lorenzo’s turn to host. You haven’t heard them? They walk like they’re trying to wake the dead, or at the very least, step through my fucking ceiling.”
“No. I live with Quin. I could probably sleep through a bomb. I know I can sleep through drums,” I explain, glancing at her laptop and noticing all the little windows on the screen. “What are you doing?”
“Surveillance.”
