Page 41 of Four on the Floor: A Menage Romance

Do we all go our separate ways — her back to California, us back to constantly traveling, a new city every night? Back to newgirlsevery night?

I don’t want that. It used to be fun, sure, but then I met Larkin.

No.Wemet Larkin, and it changed everything.

And I’m not sure what we’ll do when it’s over.

* * *

Beingwith Larkin takes the edge off of cabin fever. I’m still shoveling snow out of the driveway at least once a week, and I’ve quite nicely cleared off the paths around the hot springs out back, but at least I’m no longer pacing around the lobby all night, getting into staring contests with the deer and moose heads that populate the walls.

Well, at least I wasn’t until tonight.

Tonight, I’m in full pace mode.

I can’t sleep. I’ve no idea why I can’t sleep, I justcan’t. It’s well past two in the morning, there’s nothing on the telly, and I can’t get a book to hold my attention to save my life. I’d try some shoveling therapy but it’s probably negative twenty out there, and to be honest, I haven’t quite got the bollocks for that.

So I’ve given up on anything that isn’t pacing back and forth, like some sort of tiger caged by insomnia.

I walk the lobby. I walk the halls. I walk to the pool area, consider taking a swim, decide against it. I walk to the gym, decide I’m not really in the mood for a run, leave as well. The kitchen’s already cleaned. There’s nothing anywhere that needs doing.

I decide that, at least, I can go get my headphones from my room and pace around this palatial hotel to some music instead.

I head back up, but as I’m unlocking my door, I notice something.

There’s a light on under Larkin’s door. It wasn’t there when I left, and I’m sure of it. I checked.

I raise one eyebrow, transfixed. Like I said, Larkin does take the edge off my cabin fever, and I’m feeling edgy as hell right now. True, Cash or Dalton might be in there right now, but we’ve never minded an extra guest before.

Headphones forgotten, I walk to her door, knock on it. The feverish feeling is pumping through my veins now, putting me on edge, and I feel like the only cure is Larkin.

When she answers the door, she’s alone, wearing nothing but an oversized sleep shirt. She smiles at me, leaning against her open door, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What are you doing up?” she asks.

“Couldn’t I ask the same of you?”

The shirt ends at the very top of her thighs, the part where her skin is creamy and soft, fucking delectable. It’s distracting as hell, her standing there, my fingers itching to touch her already.

“Youcould, but you’re the one who knocked on my door at—” she pauses, craning her neck to look at the clock, “—two-thirty in the morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I say. “Being trapped in a building for a few months gets to me sometimes. I need something to take my mind off it.”

Larkin raises one eyebrow, and I swear her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. I could be imagining it, though, since she’s backlit, all the light coming from a single solitary lamp.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” she admits. “And last time he was here, Dalton stole my book, and I don’t want to wake him up for it, and I don’t really feel like starting a new one, so…”

“I doubt he’d mind if you woke him up.”

“He might if it was just to get my book back,” she says, and steps back, into her room. I follow her, every sense suddenly alive.

She doesn’t make it more than four steps before I’m on her, my hands on her hips, already hiking up the t-shirt she’s wearing.

“I know how to help you sleep,” I whisper in her ear. “Works like a charm, every time.”

A soft sigh escapes her lips, and her head tilts back. One of my hands finds its way under the hem of her shirt, stroking the soft perfection of her upper thighs, and the other takes a handful of her hair.

It feels good. Just that little bit feels good, the silky strands against my palm, the way I can suddenly feel the tension in her muscles. The weird, feverish feeling that’s been coursing through my veins all night stops, redirects.

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