Page 78 of The New Guy
“There are a few fun perks.” I run two fingers down his abs, until his tummy flexes under my hand. “The view is really great.” I run a hand up his thigh, grazing his sac with my thumb. “And you’re decent at ping-pong. You show a lot of promise.”
“Oh, bite me. I won!”
I bite him lightly on the pec. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Come here,” he says suddenly.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
I hitch myself a little higher until my head is on the pillow beside his, and he rolls to study me in the darkness, just as the other candle gutters out.
“We should sleep,” he says quietly.
“Probably.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
I smile.
Then he leans in and kisses me with a soft press of his mouth against mine.
I wrap my arm around him and kiss him back.
Not a minute later he’s rolled that exquisite body on top of mine, and we’re making out in earnest again. I lift my knees and hold his hips in their grasp, and he lets out a low sound of longing.
Sleep is overrated anyway.
I’m sure of it.
* * *
At eight the next morning, though, I’m a little less sure. Grogginess sets in as I sit up in bed and force open my bleary eyes.
We didn’t get to sleep before two.
“Morning,” Hudson says, emerging from his bathroom.
“Hey,” I say, and my voice is rough with disuse.
He flashes me an uncertain smile, and then leans over his open suitcase on the floor. “I’ve got a strategy breakfast before morning skate. I’m sorry, I wish I could stay.”
“No—you need to go,” I say, blinking myself awake. “I do, too.” I slide off the side of the bed and look around for my clothes.
His room is a mess—with throw pillows and a condom wrapper on the floor. I stumble around the suite until I find my underwear and my clothes. My whole suitcase is here, because I never went back to my own room.
So I zip up my bag and frantically finger-comb my hair, until I’m tidy enough not to look like I just rolled out of bed.
“I guess, uh, I’ll see you at the stadium?” Hudson’s hands are jammed awkwardly in his pockets. Like he’s not sure what to do with them.
“Yeah you will,” I say lightly. I’m not sure how to play it, either. I’m not accustomed to being anyone’s secret lover. “Have a great game, okay? Maybe you should have slept more.”
He shrugs. “We get a rest before the game tonight. I’ll use it wisely.”
“Good. Do that.” We stare at each other for a long beat. And then—fuck it—I close the distance and wrap my arms around his barrel chest.
He hugs me to him, and just for a second everything is fine again.When I’m in a room with you, everything seems so clear.
