Page 83 of Dream Chaser

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You’re cocky for someone who couldn’t find his shirt.

Thigh Whisperer:

Who said I actually looked for it?

I attempt to come up with a witty, somewhat stabby response when the dots start jumping again.

Thigh Whisperer:

I was too busy watching you sleep.

I bite my lip—hard. This scratched itch, turned overnight guest, isn’t the only one who feels like he’s been ruined.

Me:

You were supposed to leave last night

Thigh Whisperer:

You were supposed to make me want to.

That shouldn’t hit as hard as it does. But it does.

And then:

Thigh Whisperer:

I’ll be back tonight. If you leave the door unlocked. Or even if you don’t.

Me:

It’s girls’ night.

Thigh Whisperer:

We’ll see.

Chapter 18

Elevated

Griffon

Ilean back in the driver’s seat, dick half-mast after that text exchange, phone in one hand, engine off, radio off—just me trying to figure out how to see her before I head south. I need to make her come again before I leave New York.

No shade on girls’ night, but the fact it’s tonight isn’t cool. Well, it wasn’t until I visualized a play.

Me:

Anyone want to grab dinner at Brooks tonight before Oz and I take off?

Hunt:

Leaving on a red eye. Let’s make it happen before nine.

Hart:

They’re closed. End-of-season hours. Thurs – Sun only, remember?

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