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I arch my back as he continues to suck and lick and nibble, running my hands through his hair and down his back. He starts to thrust, humping me through my pajamas. His dick inflates even more.
“You’re insatiable,” I moan.
“Your boobs are out,” he replies, like that’s a full explanation. I guess maybe it is.
When he texted, I was feeling bloated and achy. Now, I’m so turned on I can hardly think straight.
I come with a loud cry, hoping there’s no one staying in the room next to this one.
Aidan kisses me for a good minute before pulling away. I slip out of bed so I can clean up in the bathroom.
He’s lying on his back when I return to bed, his boxer briefs back in place.
I snuggle into his side, starting to feel drowsy.
I’malmostasleep when I hear him say my name softly.
My heavy eyelids fight to stay closed. Before I can murmur a “What?” he whispers, “I love you.”
I freeze, not that it matters since I’m already motionless. If Aidan can feel the sudden tension in my body, he ignores it, punching the pillow once and then tightening his grip on me.
I lie awake, listening to his quiet confession on a loop in my head. One I’m not sure I was supposed to hear.
Sometime during the endless echo ofI love you, I fall asleep for real.
I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth when there’s a loud knock on my door.
I spit and then tiptoe out of the bathroom, glancing at my bed. Aidan is still fast asleep, a pillow pulled over his head and the covers pooled around his waist. All I can see are his abs.
Another knock.
I pull on a sweatshirt and then rush over to the door. Glance through the peephole, and freeze.
My dad is outside.
I swear under my breath before grabbing the keycard off the television stand and opening the door the smallest crack possible as I step out into the hallway.
My dad looks alert, like he’s been up for hours, showered and dressed in a suit. He’s holding a coffee cup in one hand.
“Morning,” I greet, my voice filled with fake cheer. “Big day!”
He frowns at me, and I silently pray I don’t have a hickey on my neck or something equally incriminating. “Disastrous day, so far. The bus didn’t start this morning. And Phillips is missing.”
Fuck.
“What’s wrong with the bus?” I ask, like a coward.
“If anyone knew that, it would be running. The company is working on sending a replacement, but we’re supposed to leave for the arena in forty-five minutes. Have you seen Phillips?”
I swallow. “Uh, yes.”
“Well you—wait.Yes?” Obviously not the answer my dad was expecting. “Where the hell is he? I’ve got hotel staff and the entire team searching every floor.”
I shove my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. “He’s, um, he’s in there.” I tilt my head to the left, toward the closed door I just exited from.
Shock. Uncertainty. Disbelief. Uneasiness. Awkwardness. Annoyance.
They all scroll across my dad’s face as he absorbs that answer and registers what Aidan being in my room means.
