He sets his hands under his head and crosses his feet at the ankles. “I don’t spend my money on much else but expensive fabrics…” Lazy and pleased with it, his lips curl up into a handsome grin. “That’s where I draw the line. Cheap sheets would make it impossible for me to sleep. Cheap shirts would send me nuts by the end of the day. I buy quality for the important things.”
“You use your world-travel budget for fancy linen instead.” I drench the lettuce and croutons and robotically open drawers until I find the one with silverware.
Whatdoyaknow. I get to use the forks with little diamond designs here, too.
Snorting, I grab one and stab it into my meal, then picking thecontainer up, I turn and shovel lettuce into my mouth. “I guess you supplied the silverware too, huh?” I chew like a cow out to pasture, noisily and with my mouth open, and while I saunter back toward the bed, I stack and stab more onto the fork. I set one knee on the mattress when I arrive, extending my offering with a smile. “You haven’t eaten either.”
Pleasantly surprised, he pushes up to his elbows and accepts his lunch with a seductive roll of his lips circling the fork. “Lettuce is not a meal,” he murmurs. “You need meat.”
“There’s more than lettuce in this.” I stab some more and shove it into my mouth, and while he chews his, I stand again and turn toward the bathroom. “I see carrot, sprouts, croutons. Bell peppers, too, and some weird seed-looking thing.”
He reaches into his mouth and takes out whatever the seed is. “Nasty.”
“Says the guy who eats ass without complaints.” I come to the bathroom door, fully prepared to sit on the toilet and eat while I pee, but I stop at the threshold as a thousand glittering shards of glass bring me up short, the old silver hardware resting on top of the ruins. “What the hell happened to the shower door?”
“Broke it.”
Stunned, I lean back and spy him lazily stretched across my bed, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed once more.
“How?” I exclaim. “I was with you the whole damn time!”
Smirking, he shrugs and sends his powerful chest rippling. “I guess I slammed my knee against the door near the end. You were focused on me, so I suppose you didn’t notice.”
“How does someone not notice something like that? And oh my god!” I gasp, slamming my hand to my mouth. “What the hell do I tell Alana? We destroyed her bathroom!”
Snickering, he digs lettuce from his teeth with the tip of his tongue. “We’ll come up with something. It’ll be fine.”
“Christian!”
“She had a baby today. She won’t step foot in this place for weeks, and she’ll be too sleep-deprived to care even when she does. Now come back over here and sit on my face so I can eat.”
I roll my eyes and dig into my salad for more. “You need real food. Not pussy. And I need a shower—like, apropershower—so I can get dressed and head back to the hospital.”
“Put something on, and I’ll take you to my house. You can shower there, and in the meantime, I’ll have someone come out and clean up this bathroom, so it’s safe again.”
“How do I tell Alana I tore the rail off the wall and broke her door, without telling her I was having wild sex with her brother-in-law in there?”
His eyes glitter with taunting menace.
“I’m not telling her I was having wild sex with her brother-in-law in there!” Frustrated, and hungrier now than I was when I started eating, I scoop lettuce into my mouth and stalk to my suitcases laid out on the floor. “Also, I need meat. This salad isn’t helping anything.”
Chuckling, he sits up on the bed and looks me up and down with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “Get dressed, and grab another outfit to change into. I’ll take you to my place, you shower, I’ll make you a meal with protein in it. Then we’ll head back to the hospital.”
“And pretend none of this ever happened.” How does one bend over her suitcase,naked, without appearing ridiculously crass? “I made a promise,” I admit. “Something about six weeks of banging whenever we’re both in the mood.”
“I don’t recall mentioning moods. I specifically said you would become my fuck doll whenever I wanted you.”
“However,” I push on, dancing right over his words. “I don’t want to tell Alana or Tommy about this. Alana, especially, is about to go through some shit with postpartum recovery and chronic sleep deprivation. The last thing she needs to worry about is her first baby—you,” I add, peeking over my shoulder to confirm he’s listening. “If she knows we’re hooking up, she’ll stress out about breakups and hurt feelings and all that jazz.”
“We’re gonna break up?”
“No. We’re not.” I poke through my luggage and select fresh underwear. “Because healthy, consenting adults having casual sex are nottogether, thus, there is no breakup to be had. There’s just us, sneaking around every now and again, orgasming, and then moving on with our lives.”
“Interesting.”
“We’re just two busy, intelligent, sex-starved adults with free will, who live a really, really far distance from one another but will enjoy five-and-a-half weeks ofthat.” I point an accusing finger toward the bathroom. “More of that, please. At the end, you could probably drive me back to the airport and wish me good luck with the plane germs, and then it’s done. Good terms, no mess, no fuss, and when I come back for Hazel’s first birthday, maybe we’ll pick up where we left off and destroy another shower.”
“Sounds like you have it all planned out.”