Page 97 of Lilah
"Can I have a t-shirt?" I question a little shyly. I don't necessarily want to sleep in the sweater I'm in unless he wants a puddle of sweat on his bed.
Ew.
He opens a drawer and grabs the first thing he sees. He tosses it over to me and it hits me in the face. I fall back onto the bed with a groan as it does.
I get over my fit and stand up, taking off my sweater. I look at the shirt he gave me. It's a plain white t-shirt with a whole bunch of black words on the back. Something about the FBI.
I'mnotan FBI agent because I'm wearing this. I'mnot.
I am.
I pull the shirt over my head and then my eyes lock with Grey.I thought he left.
He runs his hand through his dark, thick hair.
"Give me a break Lilah," he jaw clenches and I turn confused.
"I'm trying to be good for you. You're making itso fucking hard," he stresses, walking closer to me.
That's what she said. Shut up.
"Stop biting your lip," he glares and I release it, not even realizing I was doing it. He grabs my waist and pulls me flush against him. His tattooed hand rests at the top of my throat as he tilts my head up to him.
He eyes travel down the shirt on my body and he whispers a curse.
"I'm getting in the shower," he grumbles before letting me go and walking into the bathroom.
A good fifteen or so minutes later, he comes back out, his hair wet and water dripping down the ripples on his chest.
I need to go to church.
I watch him with slight pervert eyes as he comes to the head of the bed. He grabs a pillow to take with him.
"Grey," I call out as he begins walking out the room. He turns and looks at me. I look at his torso. He sees that. He wipes away a water droplet on his abdomen. I wipe the drool coming out the corner of my mouth.
"Take the bed," I start getting up.
"I'm not sleeping in that bed unless you're in it."
My heart flies out the window and ascends to say hi to Jesus.
"Okay," I say pathetically. I stretch my legs in front of me. I take off the brace on my leg and he sits on his side of the bed.
I massage my knee gently and let out a sigh.
I hear a little scratch at the closed door and a soft whine. I hold my heart and stand up. I walk carefully over to the door.
"He's not allowed in here," Grey grumbles and I gasp. How could anyone resist his whines?
"Please," I plead and his face remains blank.
"Grey."
We hear another little whine. I look back at Grey.
"How can you just listen to that? Poor Bear feels left out," my voice goes soft for Bear.
"He just wants to spend time with us," I explain, edging closer to the door.
