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Someone who is ready to see how good you look from behind
Her response doesn’t come through. My teeth sink into my lower lip as I debate what the problem is. A few minutes have passed, and still nothing. Too forward? Or does she not realize who the text is from. Fuck. How many guys promised to fuck her from behind the next time. It can’t be that many, right?
Maybe I should send her another text.
Only horrors tonight over on hockey row?
My heart races and a grin stretches across my cheeks, my doubts evaporating instantly. Of course she knows exactly who’s texting her.
The scariest
You gonna protect me?
You gonna make good on your promise?
Your place?
See you in twenty
Oh, fuck yeah. My night just got infinitely better and the dark mood vanishes as if all the gross feelings seeing Clarissa evoked never happened.
It won’t take me twenty minutes to walk to her place, but I don’t have anywhere else I want to be. I make a slight detour and pick up some much needed supplies. It’s almost exactly fifteen minutes later when I knock on her door.
“One second!” she calls from the other side of the door.
I lean against the door frame with a practiced grin and wait. The door flies open, Torryn’s clean, flushed face glares at me, her hair piled up on her head.
“You’re early,” she accuses.
I make a show of checking my watch. “By five minutes.”
“I can get a lot done in five minutes.”
I wink. “So can I.”
six
LATE NIGHT SNACK
This smug bastard. I roll my lips to keep from smiling at him. He’s already far too pleased with himself.
“You gonna brush my teeth and finish my bedtime routine for me?”
He leans forward, towering over me, and drops his voice to a whisper. “You can finish that while I finish something much more fun.” I shiver at the dirty promises in his tone, backing away from the door and allowing him to follow me in. The door shuts behind him, but I don’t turn back. Instead, I head straight for the bathroom.
The idiot caught me right in the middle of washing the makeup off my face. He clicks his tongue behind me and a shiver races down my back at his unexpected closeness. “You know, most girls put makeup on when they know I’m coming over, not take it off.”
I roll my eyes and catch his smirk in the mirror as I turn the water back to the right temperature. “I’m hoping your promise includes fucking me right into a coma. Can’t sleep with makeup on.”
His smirk is gone, replaced by a dark and heady look. His hands find my hips and he squeezes them, pulling me ever soslightly away from the counter. I arch a brow, but ignore him as I grab some of my exfoliator and begin to gently scrub my face of the day's events. Exhaustion pulls at me and I’m more worn out than I had realized. I probably shouldn’t have accepted Baylor’s offer to come over, but it was too tempting to refuse.
My eyes fly open as Baylor’s thumbs hook into the waistband of my sleep shorts and slowly pull them down, giving me enough time to stop him. He’s watching me in the mirror. Soap bubbles cover my face as my mouth parts open in surprise.
“You do your bedtime routine,” he says, his tone wicked. “I’ll do mine. And mine just so happens to include a late night snack.” There’s nothing sweet or wholesome in the look he gives me or in the desire that pools low in my belly. “Don’t get distracted,” he challenges.
Determination pours through me even as he slides my shorts down my legs. I quickly step out of them, leaning forward to rinse my face. “Perfect,” he murmurs. “Stay like that.” Resting my elbows on the counter, I grab a towel and press it against my skin.
Baylor’s hands roam over the curves of my ass, pressing and squeezing, but staying away from where I’m quickly beginning to crave him.
