Page 59 of Brat Baby
“Don’t pretend you aren’t awake, princess. I see those lips twitching.” I can hear the smile in Darcy’s voice.
Popping my eyes open and turning my head in the direction of his voice, my gaze finds his dark blue one. The blown-pupil look is gone, and all the stress lines seem to have smoothed out.
Was that due to the orgasm or my being here?
“Hi,” I whisper, the thought of speaking any louder unacceptable. I refuse to do anything to disturb this fragile little bubble I have found myself in with him.
“Hi,” he replies, resting his hand on my shoulder, that twinkle I’m so used to seeing back in his eyes. With his head cupped in his other hand as he stares down at me with a softness I’m not used to seeing, it’s hard not to pinch myself to make sure this is real.
I reach up and touch his jaw, feeling the thicker rasp of his black stubble against my fingertips as I draw a line along his jaw. The sensation shoots a shiver down my spine.
Real. This is definitely real.
A buzzing noise saves me from having to think of something else to say, which is good, because my brain is very, very blank right now. Except for the words “what does this mean?” screaming in neon in my head.
Which I will absolutely not be asking.
I put myself out there; it’s his turn now.
The noise stops, then immediately starts up again. Is that his phone ringing?
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you need to get that?”
Darcy shakes his head, continuing to scratch his fingertips up and down my arm. “No.”
When the stop-start of the buzzing happens again, I laugh. “Are you sure?”
He sighs, scoops me up, then rolls us both so that he is on his back and I’m on top of him, my cheek resting on his shirt-covered chest. “I’m supposed to be at Derek’s place for our weekly game of poker.”
Scooting over a little, I peek over the edge of the couch to find the source of the buzzing. Darcy’s phone stares back at me with Derek’s name displayed on the caller ID. When the call ends and the missed notifications appear on the screen, my mouth drops open.
“Twenty-one times? You’ve ignored him twenty-one times?” There are also a few messages from Hudson, but they are irrelevant in the face of twenty-one missed calls.
Darcy shrugs under me, his shirt protecting me from the bump of his nipple piercing. “To be fair, I did answer the first and second call. When I refused to leave you, Daddy got mad. So, I hung up.”
Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
I use his chest to brace my forearms so that I can peer down at him. “You did what now?”
“I told him I was with you and that I wouldn’t be making it to his place tonight.”
And like… I get the words that are coming out of his mouth; they are English and make sense. But my brain is refusing to understand them. It’s like he just said that he is choosing me over Derek, over them.
The mischievous smile on his face morphs into an expression that is a suspicious blend of pity and understanding as he reaches up to tuck some hair away. His fingers graze my temple, then tickle the back of my ear, which sends yet another shiver down my body.
He starts to say something but is cut off by the phone ringing, again.
Darcy groans melodramatically and closes his eyes. “Fuck me, make it stop.”
Grinning at his over-the-topness, I brace my forearm across his chest and reach for his phone, my fingers swishing around until they connect. “Your wish is my command.”
“Princess, what are you—”
Swiping to answer the call, I grin down at Darcy, whose face flashes from shocked to amused. He tucks one arm behind his head, causing his bicep to do that hot-guy bulge thing through his shirt, apparently ready to let me have my fun.
“Hello, you’ve reached Daddy Darcy’s phone, unfortunately he is currently tied up and can’t get to the phone right now, but I can take a message for you if you like?” I grin at Darcy, proud of my little pun.
There is an overly long pause, and I resist the urge to check that the call is still connected, even though my stomach is suddenly in knots of excitement. Or maybe dread? Oh well, too late to turn back now.
