Page 84 of Little Sunshine

I waited until the door closed again before going to the guest room I’d been using. I stripped my shirt off and tossed it into the hamper before undoing my belt and slacks. As soon as I shoved the fabric of my boxer briefs down, my hard cock sprung free from where it’d been stretched down my thigh. It made me a sick bastard because I fucking knew something was bothering her, but my dick didn’t get that memo.

Or it did and it just didn’t care that it was a bastard.

I fisted it and squeezed until it toed the line of pain. With the image of Mila looking up at me, I knew I would come embarrassingly fast, but I didn’t want to risk her changing her mind. Releasing a groan of frustration at the same time I released my hold, I pulled on a new pair of boxers and basketball shorts, tucking my hard-on into the waistband. Since that did jack shit to hide the inches that stuck out past the fabric, I pulled on a loose tee.

I took care of the rest of what I needed as fast as I could before grabbing my phone and returning to Mila. I didn’t knock in case she’d crashed, but I did open the door slowly.

Not only was she still awake, but she was sitting on the bed with her eyes aimed at me.

Waiting for me.

My dick jerked.

I tilted my head toward the study side of the room. “Want me to sleep over there?”

Her lip went back between her teeth as she shook her head.

“Want me to take the floor?”

Another shake.

“Like last night?”

She nodded.

Rounding the bed, I closed the bathroom door.

“Wait—” Mila started but her protests cut off when the room wasn’t plunged into darkness. She leaned over to check out the bright light coming from the plug-in. “You didn’t have to put that there.”

I pulled back the blankets. “Never said I did.”

“You can turn it off.”

“No need.”

“It’s really fine.”

“Mila.”

“Hold on, I’m going to switch it off.”

“Mila—”

“I don’t need?—”

“Little girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then stop interrupting me before I…” That time I was the one to interrupt myself before I said something that’d have her kicking my ass right back out of bed.

“Before you what?” she challenged. Her voice may have been quiet and raspy with exhaustion, but there was no doubt it was a challenge.

If it hadn’t made her visibly upset, I’d have called her a brat again.

“Before I fall asleep and nosedive off the damn bed.” I carefully pulled her into my loose hold and covered us. “Go to sleep.”

“Eleven lobster stories.” She paused before amending. “Actually, twelve for calling me little girl.”

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