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My watch.
Lost to the universe, and somehow,shefound it. She didn’t have to, but she did. So when Sydney Sun says she needs me, there’s no way in hell I’m saying no.
Then, a thought slinks in—what if this is her swan song? Her last hurrah before she calls it quits. My wife said it herself—Sydney Sun is embarrassed, still figuring things out.
What if this is her way of asking for help? For a lifeline as she steps into the unknown?
I blow out a breath, and RSVP.
Bottom line: If she’s asking, I’ll be there. Every damn time.
CHAPTER 41
Brian
The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting soft, golden rays across Jules’s luscious curves as she stirs in her sleep.
She’s sprawled out on her stomach, her hair a mess of dark waves across the pillow, showing the soft lines of her bare shoulders. Her glorious breasts rise and fall with each breath, and all I can do is watch her.
She’s breathtaking. Peaceful. Beautiful in a way that makes my breath hitch and my cock stir.
I want to touch her, but I won’t. I know better. If I even so much as run my hand down the curve of her hip, there will be hell to pay.
Disturbing Jules on a lazy Sunday morning? I may as well kick a hornet’s nest. A hornet’s nest that transforms into ten Godzillas.
I can already imagine her glare burning through me, her sleepy wrath ready to pounce. And make no mistake, my little Peach Pop is evil. I wouldn’t put it past her to throw a pillow atmy head with the precision of a Navy SEAL, then roll over like nothing happened.
Is it my fault her mesmerizing body practically dares me to start a damn pillow war?
Because I’ve fought battles that were easier than going toe-to-toe with a cranky Peach Pop. Like when we were eight, and I told her she was too little to play WWE wrestling, thinking she’d pout and storm off.
Spoiler alert: she didn’t.
The damn girl had me in a headlock five minutes later, her legs locked around my waist like a python, flipping me to the ground until I ate my words—and half a mouthful of dirt.
Which was weird, because I was talking about a video game.
In my defense, I was scrawny for eight. And Jules? She was a damn hurricane in sneakers. Came at me with all limbs flying. Some serious Greco-Roman wrestling shit. Her arms and legs locked in around me like a candy wrapper and?—
Wait, why is this a bad idea?
Without opening her eyes, she mumbles, “We’re closed.”
I smirk. “Closed?”
“To that big cock knocking at my ass. Yeah, we’re closed. Come back in an hour.”
A grin tugs at my lips as I lean closer, my breath just grazing her hair. “I can’t. In an hour, my dick will have shriveled up from sheer neglect. Blue balls will have claimed their final victim. And then where will you be?”
“Sleeping blissfully,” she mutters, yanking the pillow over her head like a shield.
I chuckle, undeterred. “Plus, in an hour, we’ll be hitting the road.”
Her pillow shifts just enough for one eye to peek out. “You’re coming with me?”
I’m not sure why she’s so surprised. As if I could last an entire day without her.
I sigh dramatically, flopping back on the bed. “Yes, I’m coming with you. Even if impending dick death is on the line.”
