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“Aye, I do.”
She gave a sigh. “Miss you.”
I gave him a flick of the wrist wave and left before I heard whatever obsessive shit he said to his wife.
And so I could hurry home to my own obsession.
_______________
Putting my fists on my bed, I leaned down to see Ophelia in the dim light of my phone on the bedside table.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Her face was soft and relaxed in sleep, her hair spread around her like a damn sunrise. My already hardening dick thickened fully when I noticed she was sleeping in my tee. It jerked when I saw her hard nipples pressed against the thin fabric, no sign of a bra.
I didn’t give a damn that it made me a scumbag, I knew I’d be using the image to jerk off.
Before I could do that, I needed to do what she’d asked.
“O,” I whispered, brushing her hair from her face.
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered back groggily. Stretching, she blinked a few times before smiling—small and sleepy but real.
Fuckin’ killin’ me.
“You’re home.” She tried to sit up a little but must’ve decided it was too much work because she flopped back. “Everything go okay?”
“Fine. Waste of time, but fine.”
“Good,” she said softly, closing her eyes.
“Get back to sleep.”
I shifted to straighten, but before I could, she reached out and gripped my shirt without looking. “Come to bed.”
“Just gonna change.”
“No, sleep with me.”
“Princess—”
“I’m not drunk,” she said before cracking one eye. “Okay, I am. But even if I wasn’t. Just…” Her words trailed off but she tugged at my shirt as she scooted over.
Weak when it came to her, I climbed into the bed. I hadn’t even settled when she rolled back and threw her arm and bare leg over me.
“Good night,” she whispered.
I was in my jeans and tee.
I was hard, my dick curved at a painful angle.
And I had O’s body half on mine, torturing me.
It wasn’t a good night.
It was the fuckin’ best.
