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“No, baby.” Finn sucks her fingers into his mouth before pressing them between her thighs. Pulling her thong to the side and baring her shaved cunt to us all, he whispers, “I want you to show my brothers how much fucking fun I’m going to have with you tonight.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LAYLA
Waking up, I feel across the cold sheets on the other side of the bed and quickly realize I am alone. I rub the sleep from my eyes and look around the room to find that nearly every trace of Tristan is gone. Everything except a note on the nightstand.
Had a family emergency and didn’t want to wake you. Breakfast is on me. Indulge in room service. After last night, you’re probably starving. See you soon, darling.
-Tristan
“Probably not,” I huff as I toss the note onto the empty side of the bed. I’m not new at this this.
Hit it and quit it.
Like most one-night stands, I’m never going to hear from him again. That’s generally how it goes. Although, usually, it doesn’t involve a five-star hotel and what I can only assume is a gourmet breakfast from a Michelin-starred restaurant.
After taking a brief glance at the breakfast menu, I pick up the phone, call room service, and place an order for raspberry crème crepes and an iced coffee. Then, a second iced coffee to go.
Climbing from the bed, I find my clothes neatly folded on the chaise beneath the window. Even my panties. This man folded my fucking panties? My clutch and heels are arranged beside them.
Opening the clutch and swiping open my phone, I find I missed a few texts from Jorge.
Haven’t heard from you.
Did you get home safe?
Or are you dead in an alley?
Do I need to call Stabler and Benson?
“Jesus,” I cackle as read though his messages. Nothing like a little dark SVU humor to start the morning.
Not dead.
So he only murdered your pussy then.
Oh my God!
You know you’re going to tell me every last scandalous detail.
So just spill it already.
It was incredible.
Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
That bad?
Not even close.
I’ve never even made myself come that much before.
Details, bitch.
Give me every sordid detail so I can live vicariously through you.
After getting dressed, I call Jorge and give him the play-by-play of last night while I eat my ungodly delicious room service.
