Page 33 of Done with You

She had firsthand knowledge about what she would see beyond the bathroom door and it was driving her insane.

She should not be this bothered, this flustered by a man who clearly hated her and wanted to do nothing more than ruffle her feathers and piss her off.

Aiden was an angry person who needed help. But she was not the person to help him.

However, they needed to put their drama aside for the time being and focus on Rayma and Jordan.

She could do that.

For Rayma, she would do that.

The bathroom door finally opened and she could just picture him sauntering out with his sexy owl tattoo all covered in water droplets, while the towel hung dangerously low on his hips and his skin was a tantalizing rosy pink from the warm water.

She licked her lips, groaned, and flipped over onto her belly, squeezing her eyes shut so tight it made the skin at her temples tingle.

“Go. To. Sleep,” she growled at herself.

Eventually, she did fall asleep. Only to be bombarded with sexy dreams of Aiden seducing her.

They weren’t on a plane this time, but the seats were arranged like airplane seats. Numbered and narrow. But they were inside the bar, where they first met back at the hotel. Pedro was shaking drinks behind the it, but when she tried to order a Shirley Temple from him, he passed her a can of ginger ale instead.

“I didn’t order this,” she said.

Pedro ignored her.

“Here, you can have mine,” came a husky voice, followed by a big hand sliding a can of tomato juice toward her.

“I don’t drink tomato juice.”

“Neither do I. I’d much rather drink you down.” Then he—a fuzzy image that looked a lot like Aiden—dropped to his knees, hooked her legs over his shoulder and she suddenly found herself sitting in an airplane seat, with the big bald man from their first flight beside her snoring, while Aiden ate her out.

Her groan of pleasure woke her up with a start. Her chest heaved, her body was warm and she didn’t even have to check her underwear to know that she was aroused. Every inch of her skin tingled, and there was a thin layer of sweat forming along her hairline.

“What the fuck?” she breathed out into the dark, quiet room.

Grabbing her phone off the nightstand, she checked the time.

It was eight-thirty in the morning. Wednesday. Right. She was at her sister’s place in Victoria. Not her apartment in Montreal. It was a work day, but she didn’t have to work.

“What the fuck?” she said again. She’d never in her life slept that late. She was an early riser, and given the time difference, she thought for sure she’d be waking up earlier than ever since she was conditioned to wake up at six every day. So that would be three in the morning Pacific time.

How had she slept so long?

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she didn’t bother with her hoodie, since her body was still hot and bothered, and she padded barefoot to the door, slowly opening it.

The apartment was quiet.

With her phone in her hand, she stood on the bedroom side of the door and checked her messages. There was one from Rayma.

Hey sleepy head. Figured you would want to sleep in. I had to head into the office for a couple of hours but I’ll be back in time for the dress fittings. Jordan is working a day shift, so he’ll be home around dinner. I want you to look at this as a vacation, so take a load off. Veg and unwind. Aiden is still at the house, so maybe, I dunno … have some fun. ?? ?? See you in a bit. Love you, Oons!

Oona gaped at her sister’s message.

What the hell?

She texted Rayma back. A head’s up last night would have been appreciated. I’d much rather go to the gym than hang out at your house all morning with a stranger.

Rayma texted back almost immediately. He’s not a stranger. He’s family. And if you jump his bones and grind them into dust with your crazy-strong stripper thighs, then he definitely won’t be a stranger. Xoxo

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