Page 21 of The Contractor's Rose
That sobered me. “El … What happened with you and Teagan?”
Her eyes flicked away for a second. “That’s not important right now,” she said, too fast. “We’re not talking about her. We’re talking about you and your dirty contractor boyfriend. Now, more details. I want to live vicariously through your corruption.”
Later that night,after Elodie had gone to bed and I was alone on her pull-out couch in my pajamas, I stared at my phone for a minute before typing out the simplest message possible.
ME
Hi
He replied instantly.
GAVIN
Hi, sweetheart.
I bit my lip, the heat blooming in my cheeks as I shifted on the cushions. I lifted my phone, adjusted my position, and snapped a selfie. The lamp behind me provided soft lighting that highlighted messy hair, wine-blushed cheeks, and my oversized sleep shirt hanging low enough to expose my bare shoulder completely. Just enough skin to tease him.
I hit send.
His reply came barely ten seconds later.
GAVIN
Jesus, Rose.
You trying to kill me?
Followed by a selfie.
He was in bed. Shirtless. The blankets rested low on his hips, revealing the deep V of his torso. His chest was broad and covered in a smattering of dark hair that narrowed toward his abs—thick, carved lines hardened from years of physical labor.
I swallowed hard.
I wanted to lick him.
Where did that thought come from?
ME
Not trying. But now I am thinking about how warm that bed looks.
GAVIN
It’d be warmer if you were in it.
ME
If I was in it, I wouldn’t be sleeping.
GAVIN
Neither would I.
I’d have you on your back, flushed and gasping. Hands above your head while I took my time with you, sweet girl.
My thighs clenched.
ME
