So long as I’m in this small town, she needs to be in my bed. Every second I can have her. Our one-night stand turned into one week … turned into two.
I’ve waited for so long to have her. Did she think I’d have my fill of her so quickly?
As she stretches on my bed, the sheet slips and reveals more of her back, along with the curve of her waist.
I could get used to this. Waking up with her in my bed, going to sleep alongside her.
If I could keep her here forever, I would.
“That was nice,” she whispers as she rolls back over and lays her hand on my bare chest. Her finger traces up to the dip below my throat then moves lower, and lower still. Stirring my already spent dick back to life.
“Be careful what you ask for,” I warn her in a rough timbre as I hold back a groan.
I can feel her smile against my shoulder and then she laughs sweetly.
“I think I need a shower first,” she says.
“You’ll need another when I’m done with you.” I don’t miss the way her legs scissor under the sheets at my comment.
“Shower first,” she says as if she’s decided. Had I slept well at all last night, I’d slip my tongue between her thighs and convince her otherwise. But the meeting location changed yesterday and then again. It seems the message I’ve been waiting on Marcus to deliver has changed as well and Carter’s on edge with what’s coming our way.
The unwanted thought is what motivates me to get up. I’ve been in a daze with Addison. She’s a distraction.
I crack my neck and stretch my arms before getting out of bed with a twisted feeling in my gut.
With my back to Addison, she traces the small scar on the bottom of my shoulder. A scar I’ve long since forgotten. There are a few really, but they’re faint. Only one is easily seen.
“How’d you get that?” she asks me and I clench my jaw as I stand up.
She always liked my father. He was a good man … to her at least. And maybe the family business wouldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been so hard on Carter and me.
“I popped off to my father,” I explain, keeping it short and simple as I get off the bed and grab a pair of boxer briefs from the dresser. My voice sounds strained even to my own ears.
My dick’s already hard and wanting more of her, but the unpleasant reminder of my childhood makes me want to bury myself in work. I have an encrypted file I should look over with details for a big shipment coming in next week. It includes a list of new hires and Carter always gets wary when it comes to new people unloading stock.
“You popped off?” she asks and I turn around to the sound of her saddened voice. My stomach twists when I see her expression. Like she can’t believe my father would have ever struck me.
She has no idea.
“I should have known better.” My words don’t do a thing to change the look in her eyes and when they move from the thin scattering of silver scars on my back to my own gaze, all I see is sympathy. And I don’t fucking want it. Not from anyone, and sure as fuck not from her.
“Leave it alone, Addison.” I move back to the dresser for pants and a shirt, opening one drawer and slamming it shut before moving to the next.
“What did you say?” I hear her ask softly as I shut a third drawer, still not finding what I’m looking for. The fourth drawer slams shut harder than I intended.
“It doesn’t matter.” My response doesn’t faze her.
“I wouldn’t have thought he’d ever-”
“He saved that side of himself for Carter and me,” I say, cutting her off sharply before I can stop myself. Apparently the anger is stronger than I thought. Up until now I assumed the animosity was buried with him when he died.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly and it only amplifies my agitation.
The air is tense in the bedroom as I slip on a t-shirt and pajama pants, an old plaid flannel pair.
“Pass me one?” Addison asks, apparently ready to move on from the revelation that my father wasn’t the saint Tyler made him out to be.
I almost toss the black cotton Henley toward the bed, but instead I walk it to her. Letting her take it from me and when she does, her slender fingers brush against mine.
There’s nothing sexier than watching her pad around this place in nothing but my t-shirt. Her occupation means she can work anywhere, which means her ass is staying right here with me. For now.
Gripping her hand as she takes the shirt, I pull her closer to me and steal a quick kiss. And then another as I release her.
She props herself up on the bed, getting onto her knees and deepening the small kiss. As she bites gently on my bottom lip, she tangles both of her hands in my hair. I let myself fall forward, bracing my impact with one arm on either side of her.
She doesn’t open her eyes until she gives me a sweet peck right where she bit me. Her green eyes stare back at me for only a moment before she closes them again and brushes the tip of her nose against mine.
My fucking heart is a bastard for wanting to believe the kiss has anything to do with the conversation we just had. But it flips in my chest as if that little nudge and the fact that her eyes were closed meant everything in the world.
I’ve always had a bastard heart when it comes to her.
“I have to work,” I tell her and quickly bend down to plant a quick kiss on her temple. I’d better leave before I wind up doing nothing but staying in bed.
“So you don’t want to come with me to check out the campus?”
“I’m not sure there’s a polite way to say this, but fuck no.” It amazes me how easy it is to be candid with Addison. Maybe it’s because just like now, she isn’t offended or taken aback. She simply takes what I have to give and smiles.
“So you think I shouldn’t go here?” she asks and from her tone I know it’s a loaded question.
“Why would you?” I offer in rebuttal.
She breaks eye contact and shrugs, picking at a thread on the comforter. “It seems like a business degree would make sense.”
“You already have your business set up and it’s successful, isn’t it?”
“I’m doing well. How’d you know? You look me up?” she asks playfully, but I ignore her and the twinge in my chest.
“Then why bother?”
She peeks up at me over her shoulder with a defensive look on her face. “Well, why do you bother?”
Leaning forward, I lower my voice to answer her. “I don’t. I’m not staying.”
“You’re going home?” she asks and the very idea of home doesn’t quite sit right with me, but neither does the expression on her face. The hurt one that she can’t hide although I’m not sure she would bother even if she was aware of how transparent her emotions are.
“I’m working and that might lead me back to where we grew up.”
As I lower myself back onto the bed slowly, I question being so honest with her. The coy and curious nature I’ve come to enjoy from her turns timid. Like she’s walking into dangerous territory.
“Should I ask?” Her voice is quiet and she doesn’t look me in the eye.
“That depends on what you want to know.” She hasn’t asked a single question since we’ve started hooking up. She’s smart enough to know. Maybe smart enough to know not to ask too.