Page 8 of His Favorite Melody

Then he sucks a nipple into his mouth and pulls hard. And I shatter. That quick, that easy, I climax dry-humping his jeans. I should be embarrassed, but judging from the growl that just emanated from Hayes’s throat, he definitely approves.

Without a word, though, he stands, with me wrapped around him like a capuchin and carries us into my bedroom.

I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this relaxed. But I don’t want to miss any of this night with him. This might be our only time so I want to make the most of it.

He tosses me on the bed, and I bounce. I’m not a small woman, and I love that he can manhandle me like that. Well, in truth, I just love everything there is about Hayes.

His hands go to his zipper, but there’s a buzzing from his pocket. He reaches in and pulls out the device, his eyes dropping to the screen.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. He sighs audibly, then walks closer to me. Without any words, he lifts me again, then tucks me into the bed. “I wasn’t ready to be done with you, sweetheart, but I’ve got to go and take care of something. Get some sleep and I’ll be back soon.” He drops a kiss to my forehead, then turns and walks out of my bedroom, closing the door behind him.

When I wake up the next morning it takes me a minute to even remember the night before. It helps that I’m topless.

Right. Because I whipped that tank off and tossed it somewhere in the living room.

I roll to my side to see that it’s just me in the bed. Did he change his mind? He said he’d be back.

Maybe he didn’t want to wake me up so he just slept in his own room. I jump out of bed. Toss on some clothes and wash my face, brush my teeth. My hair is still in my braid so I don’t even have to worry about fixing that.

In lieu of taking the time to do some yoga, I just take a few deep breaths. It doesn’t help the nerves flitting through my stomach. Will things be different between us now? Will he greet me with a kiss and a ‘good morning, beautiful’?

When I step into the living room, the first thing I realize is that the television is on. I frown. Hayes never watches TV unless I’m sitting with him.

Zeke is sitting on the couch, his legs resting up on the coffee table.

“Uh, hello, Zeke,” I say.

He mutes the television and looks over at me. “Hayes sent me to watch over you. He’s working on something. Do you need anything? I know he usually takes care of ordering your food and stuff, but I didn’t know what you’d want.”

I shake my head. “No, I can order my own food. Thank you.” I glance around the room and spot my disposed tank top flung across one of the fake Ficus trees against the wall. A tangible reminder that I didn’t imagine the kisses or the touches. I definitely didn’t imagine that orgasm.

Did he leave because he regretted touching me in the first place? Is that why he’s still gone? Is he trying to figure out how to let me down gently?

He’d wanted me last night. I’d felt his erection. He’d been hard for me. He’d told me he wanted me and had for a long time. Said he’d imagined my books, for heaven’s sake!

So yeah. I probably screwed everything up with my whining about the possibility of him dating. Maybe he does find me attractive, it doesn’t mean that he wants me beyond a single make out session. That’s the cold, hard truth. And I just want to crawl back into that warm cushy bed.

But I will not do that because I am a girl boss and I have shit to do. Starting with, ordering myself some damn breakfast.

chapter

six

Hayes

ME: How’s my girl?

ZEKE: Gorgeous as ever.

ME: If you lay a fucking hand on her it will be the last thing you do.

ZEKE: So no one else can have her because you want her?

ZEKE: But you won’t touch her yourself.

ZEKE: Celibacy has made you an asshole.

ME: I’m not discussing this with you via text.