Page 33 of From You to Me

A loud crack cut through the air just as I felt a burning sting creep its way up my ass.

“Ouch! Did you just spank me?” I cried out.

“Stop wiggling the fuck around, Evelyn.”

We entered a long hallway, and Jay finally put me on my feet but still kept a firm hold around my waist.

His face scrunched up in concentration as he fiddled with the keypad.

“Jay.” I smiled, looking at him. “You’re so beautiful.”

His blues flashed to mine before he pushed me inside, and I dropped in a heap on the floor.

I looked around in confusion. “Jay, I know this place. How do I know this place?” My eyes met a gigantic marble vase. “I know that vase! That’s where I met the Jay who hates me!” I turned around to look up at him and pouted. “But you don’t hate me, right? The Jay in my dream never hates me.”

He peered down at me, his mouth tugging in the corner ever so slightly like he was trying to fight a smile. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath before he bent down to place one arm under my thighs and the other under my shoulders and pulled me to his chest.

My hands automatically wrapped around his neck as I rested my head on his shoulder, yawning.

“I’m tired,” I mumbled against his jacket.

“More like drunk.”

I giggled. “Maybe.”

He laid me down on a cloud that smelled like him. I sighed as I sank into it. “So soft.”

His eyes darkened but averted to my feet. He tugged my shoes off and threw them on the floor, then draped something warm over me.

“Sleep,” he whispered as he stepped away.

I gripped his hand, pulling him to me. “No, don’t leave. I don’t want this dream to end.”

He sighed as he took a seat beside me. The look on his face was unreadable as he stared at me.

My eyelids drooped as I tried to fight the sleep that was waging a war with me but in the end, sleep won.

“Hmm,” I moaned as I snuggled closer to the fluffy silk under my cheek.

“Don’t stop on my account,” thundered a sharp voice.

I blinked, startled as I shot upright. “What?” I mumbled before my eyes landed on a shirtless man lounging back in the armchair with his head propped in his fist, watching me.

I licked my lips as I blinked again. “Jay,” I muttered, confused. My head felt like a dozen men were pounding their sledgehammer inside it.

He ran a long finger along his eyebrow, his face in an impassive mask. “Do you make it a habit to end up with strange men in dark alleyways?”

I frowned. “What are you talkin…” The memories of last night flashed back to me. The Box. Long Island iced teas. Lily. Four foxes. And Marcus.

My eyes almost bugged out of my head as my cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “It wasn’t a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jay said flatly.

Fuck, Evy, way to screw things up.

I swallowed the nerves trying to rise their way up my throat and strangle me. His gaze was still locked on mine, peering at me like an owl perched on a tree. It only made my hands clammy with sweat.

And after what felt like the longest minute, with my pulse pounding in my ears, he spoke.

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