Page 52 of Crazy In Love
“I do.” I snatch up a shirt and a pair of yoga pants that look kinda dressy when paired with a blouse.
Ish.
“The plan is to have no plan at all, except sex and orgasms and not stressing Alana out. That’s what I’m agreeing to.” I glance over my shoulder. “Deal?”
His lips curl into a smile, and his eyes glitter with something dark and dangerous. “Deal.”
“Great. This salad is shit, by the way.” I push it and the fancy diamond-decorated fork away, then I straighten out with my new clothes. “Let’s go so we can get back to Franky before it’s too late to feed him dinner.”
“You’re bossy, inside and out of the shower.” He peels himself off the bed with a groan suited for an old man, then he wanders across the room, his well-hung dick lax between his legs. Unhurried, he stops behind me and drags my hair off my shoulder, before pressing a chaste kiss to the base of my neck. “Even if you didn’t want to go to my place, we have to. My clothes and boots are wet.”
“Sounds like you lack impulse control and a little button in the back of your brain that tells you to take your clothes off before you climb into the shower.”
He grabs my ass and squeezes it in his broad, strong hand. “Bend over and show me that target, just like you did earlier, and I’llalwayschoose impulse over sensibility. By that point, my dick is doing all the thinking, and even then, it’s not thinking about laundry.”
“You’re needlessly horny.” I step into my fresh underwear, pulling lace along my legs and up to sit on my hips. Then I work on my pants. “You’re hot. You’re successful. You’re even kinda rich, which means you can buy an hour of a woman’s time. Is there a reason you act like you haven’t been laid in a year?”
“Dunno. Something about quality over quantity.” He reaches around me and cups my boobs, chuckling when I drop my head back and meet his eyes. “Just holding them up for you. I like to be helpful when I can.”
“Uh-huh.” I smack his hands away and slide my arms into the straps of my bra. “Where can we get fast food in this shithole town? I haven’t seen a single drive-thru in all the time I’ve been here.”
“My house.” He leans around and kisses my cheek. “I’ll whip something up while you’re in the shower. If you put your shoes on real quick, you can be sitting down to a meal fifteen minutes from now.”
My stomach tingles, and my legs shake. My entire soul quivers at the knowledge of what Christian Watkins can do to my body. But I have a fullbelly and an encore performance playing on repeat in the front of my mind, but more than that, I have a responsibility to Franky and sheer determination not to let Alana know the craziness I’ve stepped into.
So I walk ahead of Chris into the hospital and pause by the locked doors so he can punch in the code to gain us entry into the inner sanctum.
“You smell nice.” He walks a little too close for comfort, his chest brushing my back and his deodorant hitting my lungs for added impact. “You smell like my body wash now.”
“I hope it’s not too obvious.” I paste on a fake smile and continue forward, only to stop again at the semi-familiar face that brightens when his eyes lift to ours.
“Ollie.” Chris steps around me and pulls his friend in for a back-slapping hug. “I’m glad I caught you before you clocked out for the day.”
“Clocked out?” He sets his hands on his hips. “Dude, I didn’t even clock in yet. Or out. Or in.” He shakes his head. “I’ve lost touch with reality. What day is it?”
“Sunday. You delivered my baby niece today.”
“That was today?” Surprised, he scrubs his hands over his eyes. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”
“You did good.” Chris settles back on his heels, his shoulder brushing mine. “Thanks for taking care of them.”
“No problem. And I won’t even send them a bill, since I kinda screwed up their lives once already.” Delirious, he brings his gaze across to mine. “Fox, right?”
“Right.” I accept his hand and hold on to his jerky, almost painful shake. “Fox Tatum. We met at Alana’s mom’s funeral.”
“Yeah, I remember. Good to see you again.” He releases me and yawns. “I’m just finishing up my charts, then I was planning to head in and see them. Nurses say the baby is doing well.”
“We’ve been out the last couple of hours,” Chris murmurs. “But I got a bunch of time with her this morning. Healthy as a horse, chunky enough to boast extra chins, and Alana looked good, too. She looked better than Tommy.”
Ollie snorts. “That’s ‘cos Tommy was freaking the hell out and would’ve ended up with a concussion if I wasn’t so busy catching his baby.” He looks at me. “Was Chris as ridiculous on your watch? Because I met a new Tommy last night, and I’m pretty sure I wanna put him in a ditch because of it.”
“I wasn’t acting like?—”
“Total whine-fest,” I cut in. “He was pacing and panicking. Chewinghis nails and eating his dinner with his hands. I had higher hopes for Tommy, seeing as how he was right here with Alana, and, well…” I scrunch my nose. “He’s not Chris.”
“Pacing is allowed! Pacing is a completely reasonable reaction to worry.”
“Figured.” Ollie runs a hand over his stubbled chin. “Kinda cute how Chris thinks he’s on Franky duty, when really, you’re on ChrisandFranky duty.”
