“Ugh.” Dillon pulls my special pillow down over his head. “Make it stop.”
My cell is vibrating across the bedside table, so I grab it and crawl back into bed. Dillon’s arm juts out, and he pulls me back into his chest, nudging my ass with his morning wood. My pussy pulses with need like the greedy cunt she is as I retrieve my messages.
I have several from Ash, asking me to call her when Dillon leaves to head home. That can only mean one thing—she spent the night with Jamie. Hoping she doesn’t regret it, I read Audrey’s message next. She wants me to call her the instant I wake, no matter what time it is. That doesn’t sound good, and my spidey senses tell me it’s something Reeve-related.
“Why the sigh?” Dillon asks, dotting kisses along my bare back.
“It’s nothing,” I lie, not wanting to talk about my ex.
“You sure?” He grazes his teeth along my neck, and I close my eyes as he jerks his hips against my ass.
“Yep.”
His fingers slide around my waist and creep lower. “Are you sore?” he whispers against my ear, sending a flurry of tingles along my sensitive skin.
“Not that sore,” I confirm, eagerly parting my legs for his hand.
He dips two fingers inside me. “Always so wet. I fucking love it.” Slowly he pumps his fingers in and out of me while his other hand kneads my breast. Anticipation coils in my belly while he rolls a condom on, and I’m reveling in the newness of our intimacy. When he slips into me from behind a few minutes later, I let loose an appreciative moan, arching my back and pivoting my hips in sync with his thrusts. He’s gentler today, and while I hate I can’t see his face or kiss him, I love this angle and how it grants him access to touch me everywhere.
We both come within seconds of each other, and we lie there, silent and sated, pressed as close as two people can be. Dillon dusts kisses all over my neck, my shoulders, and my back, and I could happily stay like this all day. Until my tummy rumbles, reminding me it’s been hours since we ate. “I think that’s my cue to get us some breakfast.”
“Brunch, you mean,” he says over a yawn. “It’s already one.”
Kissing his strong arms, I slide out of the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress while I pull pajamas out of my drawer. The bed jolts behind me, and Dillon curses. I whip my head around to see what’s wrong. Dillon is on his knees, with his back facing me, his fingers frantically searching the bed. I lean over, placing a hand on his back, and he jumps. “What’d you lose?”
“My, ah, mobile phone. I think it went down the back of the bed.”
I frown, glancing around the room until I see his bag on the floor under wrinkled clothing. Getting up, I move to it, finding his phone under his crumpled pants. “I found it.” He buries his face in the pillow as I approach, and I set his phone down on the table. “What’s the matter?”
“My head is pounding,” he says, his words muffled as he speaks into the pillow. “Could you get me some tablets.”
“Of course.” I press a kiss between his shoulder blades before heading out to the kitchen.
When I return a few minutes later, he’s sitting up against the headboard, cradling his head in his hands. Slivers of buttery light filter through the blinds, casting him in a golden light.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
The comforter is bunched at his waist, and his naked chest is a work of art. He’s all smooth skin, defined curves, and ripped muscles. The ink on his body only adds to his hotness, and I wish I could capture this moment on film. His hair is sticking up all over the place, disheveled from my fingers, but he still looks sexy as fuck.
Dillon could easily be a model if the rock star thing doesn’t work out for him.
“Here.” I hand him a glass of water and two pain meds.
“Thanks, Viv.” He knocks them back before pulling me down on top of him. “How about I cook us some eggs and bacon, and then we come back to bed?”
He kisses me, and from the minty freshness of his breath, I can tell he’s made a trip to the bathroom too. “How about you stay right here, and I’ll bring us omelets in bed?” I suggest.
“I want to look after you.” He trails his hands up and down my sides.
“It’s my turn to look after you.” I massage his brow. “You’re the one with a headache.”
A funny look crosses his face before he smiles. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”