Page 108 of The Hot Shot
I’m pretty sure he comes, but I’m too distracted by the second orgasm. It hits me so hard, I lose track of things. By the time I settle back on earth, my throat is sore and I’ve called Finn a god several times over. I may have used other terms. I can’t remember.
Sweaty and panting next to me, he gives me a lazy, pleased look. “I’m glad we got that settled, Chester.” His lips brush over mine. “Hush now, your fuck master needs his rest.”
Right. I’d called him that. I’m too exhausted to do anything more than drape my limp arm over his slick chest and drift into a well-earned sleep.
Finn
Morning is not my friend. We have a dubious relationship at best; I’ll get up early because I have to, not because I enjoy it. But right now? I feel like a truck ran over me in my sleep.
I blink, trying to clear my vision, and notice the slim form of Chess standing by the bed. She’s grinning down at me with an expression that’s kind of evil. “Good morning, Starshine.”
Licking my dry lips, I manage to roll onto my back. “Do you think,” I rasp, “we could both pretend I’m perfectly fine right now?”
Chess’s grinning mug hovers over me. “Now, why would we want to do that?”
I try to glare, but my eye pulses, and I groan instead.
Chess smiles so wide, her cheeks puff up. She takes a step back, and only then do I notice the cup of steaming coffee in her hand.
“Please say that’s for me.”
“I don’t know. Can you sit up?”
With a grunt, I haul my sad ass up and slump against the headboard. The room tilts for a second, and I take a deep breath. “Coffee.”
Chess sits on the edge of the bed and hands me the cup. She is a goddess because the coffee is strong and black with exactly the right amount of sugar.
“Oh, that’s good.”
She snuggles closer, resting her head next to mine on the padded headboard. “You okay?”
“Me? Please. I have the metabolism of a god.”
“Right.”
I take another sip of coffee and pinch the bridge of my nose. “What time is it?”
“Twelve.”
“What?” I lift my head up too fast. Mistake. “I missed first breakfast and elevenses?”
Cool green eyes study me. “Exactly how many beers did you drink last night?”
“It wasn’t the beer,” I mumble into my cup. “Absinthe might have been involved at some point. Jake’s a fan.”
She stays silent, and I turn my head to face her. “Seriously, can we pretend this didn’t happen?”
“Do you remember everything?”
I remember that I’m naked. And my dick stirs. His memoryis crystal. “Yes,” I say, randy dick getting harder. “I’m generally a doofus when drunk, but I don’t forget things. Unfortunately.”
She smiles then. “You were kind of a doof.”
“I’m sorry.” I so am. Chess dealing with me as a drunken moron was not how I’d wanted our first night back home to go.
“It was cute.” Her head moves to my shoulder.
I finish my much-needed coffee in two quick gulps and put the mug on the side table. Settling more comfortably on the bed, I tuck Chess into the crook at my side. “I sang, didn’t I?”
