Page 47 of Revenge Puck

It shouldn’t be so hot seeing her wearing my shirt that swallows her whole, but it is. Mostly because it’s mine, but also because I know she’s only wearing her panties underneath. No bra since it’s hanging with her dress. And that knowledge is driving me crazy since she insists on sitting on her knees, knees that are touching my leg, with the cotton tee riding up to reveal the majority of her legs.

She said she was still angry at me from earlier, but if she wasn’t, would she let me pull her onto my lap and kiss her?

I shouldn’t be thinking about anything but the game tomorrow, and here I am, wondering what kind of panties Elle is wearing. What color, what style, what texture? Is she the type of girl who wears thongs? If so, I may combust just thinking about how amazing her ass would look in one.

Then, as if her wearing just my shirt wasn’t enough torture, our slices of chocolate pie came and I had to watch as Elle savored each and every bite, moaning around her spoon, then licking it clean.

I was a sweaty, nervous wreck eating my own slice, then having to go wash it down with a big glass of water.

When I come back to the loveseat, the side of Elle’s head is resting against the back of the leather, her eyes closed, sound asleep.

I can’t leave her sitting up like that all night, and I sure as shit can’t put her in the king-sized bed and contort my big-ass body to sleep on the loveseat either.

We can both sleep comfortably in the bed without even touching. Even if I want to touch her more than I want to breathe at the moment.

Scooping Elle up with my arms around her bottom and neck, I take her over and lay her down gently on the pillow. She doesn’t so much as twitch as I tuck her in with the bedding.

Elle

I wake up with an awful crick in my neck, sleeping on a flat pillow that isn’t my own, in a bed more comfortable than my own.

Popping up, I tug down the enormous tee, that had ridden up to my stomach, back down over my knees to survey the bedroom. It’s a nice hotel room dusted with the light of the rising sun peeking through the gap in the heavy blinds.

And beside me, the biggest man I’ve ever seen is flopped out on his stomach. His broad, bare back takes up more than half of the enormous bed.

I must have fallen asleep watching TV with Preston last night, and he tucked me into bed before joining me.

Not that I blame him. I could’ve managed to tuck my knees and curl up on the small loveseat, but even if he threw his legs over the rolled arm, he would’ve been squished.

Easing slowly out of bed so as to not wake the hockey player, I peel back the covers and then sneak a glance over at Preston’s lower body, relieved and a little disappointed that he’s wearing black and red plaid pajama pants.

Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I use the facilities, wash my hands, then swallow a gulp of minty green mouthwash. I swish it around to get rid of my morning breath while undoing my chignon to run my fingers through the tangled strands and redo it into a messy bun.

Figuring my best bet is to get dressed and slip out to avoid any awkwardness, I head back to the bedroom to grab my dress from where I hung it up in the small closet. Since Preston is still out cold, I quickly tug his shirt off to slip the dress back over my head.

It’s just covered my ass when a deep, rumbly voice says, “Good morning.”

Startling, I spin around to find Preston’s head still resting on his folded arms, bleary eyes staring right at me. He looksgrumpy and sleepy at being woken up, and yet, somehow, still stupidly hot.

“Hi. Good morning. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you. I should have…I should’ve changed in the bathroom.”

“Glad you didn’t. And I didn’t see much.”

“Oh, well, good,” I say in relief, just before he adds, “Just all those cute little rosebuds on your sheer panties and bra. Now I’m wide awake.”

“Preston!” I exclaim.

Throwing his tee at his face, I tug my dress the rest of the way down my thighs, my face flushing in embarrassment. “First you tuck me into your bed, then you sneak peeks at my underwear while I’m changing?” Although I can’t blame him for the second part. I really should’ve taken my dress back to the bathroom and changed there.

Chuckling, the grizzly bear sits up, revealing his hairy, muscular chest and hard stomach as he stretches his arms above his head. “You fell asleep. I couldn’t leave you kneeling on the loveseat all night. Well, I could have…” he trails off, eyes darkening as they remain locked on me as if he’s thinking about a less innocent type of kneeling. “And you know I couldn’t sleep on the loveseat and chance my back aching before the big game tonight.”

“Oh, I know there’s no way that all of you would fit into such a tight space.”

“Not that kind of tight space,” he replies with a grin.

His quick response makes me begin to wonder what’s wrong with the two of us. Last night was completely innocent, just two friends sharing a meal and watching shows together. How is it that everything coming out of our mouths this morning sounds like innuendo?

“I should go,” I say, gathering my purse and shoes I’ll put on in the elevator.

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