Page 84 of End Game

“You sure?” He’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice, and I finally dare to open my eyes to find that, yes, Nico is definitely smiling while still lying between my legs.

This is the most surreal moment of my life, I swear to God.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” I whisper.

“What? Made you come with my mouth? I think you needed it, Ever.” Oops, there he goes again, kissing the inside of my thigh, his hot lips like a brand.

“What if I told you I might need it again?” Hope rises in my chest, and I mentally bat it down, reminding myself I shouldn’t be greedy. He already gave me one orgasm for the night. I doubt I could come one more time anyway. “Wait, never mind.”

“Never mind? What do you mean?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“I’m more of a one-and-done type of girl when it comes to—that,” I say somewhat primly.

He actually laughs, and when our gazes meet, I see the determination there. His eyes are actually twinkling, and I recognize that look. It appears every time he talks about football. “Are you implying that you can’t have multiple orgasms in one night?”

“I never have,” I confess.

“Ever?” He’s grinning.

“Ever,” I stress.

“You can’t challenge me like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m now determined to make you come again.” His mouth shifts up higher. “Maybe even two more times tonight, if you’re lucky.”

His hands shift to the inside of my thighs, spreading them wider, and everything inside me clenches up tight in anticipation. Oh my goodness ...

I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

NICO

I startle awake, cracking my eyes open only to slam them shut against the obscenely bright light shining through my uncovered bedroom window.

Goddamn, it’s sunny out there. Guess I forgot to close the blinds last night.

Keeping my eyes closed, I reach for my phone on the nightstand, slapping my hand around until I finally find it. Once I’ve got my phone, I roll over and stretch my arm out to see if there’s anyone still in bed with me.

But the other side is empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

Disappointment floods me. She’s gone.

Once my back is to the window, I open my eyes again and see that it’s after one o’clock in the afternoon. Closer to two.

Damn. I slept in.

Yawning, I check my notifications and see there isn’t anything exciting, so I shut my phone off, rolling over onto my stomach.

Only to discover I’ve got a serious case of morning wood going on, and lying like this is contorting my dick into an uncomfortable position.

I roll back over and sit up, running my hands through my messy hair. Remembering how much Everleigh touched it last night. She kept tugging on it, especially when I ate her delicious little pussy.

Three times.

She’s so fucking responsive. Easy to make come, and when I finally let her touch me, she gave me the best hand job of my life.

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