Page 93 of No Place Like Home

“Fuck Jess,” Quincy groaned as I began to ride him.

He was hot and pulsing inside me. He let go of my hand and held onto my waist, helping me move to a faster pace. His lips trailed from my collarbone down to my breast. Everything about me was so tiny that it was so easy to get lost in him. I couldn’t remember ever being cold in the first place.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

The ringingof my phone woke me up. I tried to move my hand, but it was numb. I blinked a few times, trying to get myself awake. Dark hair was spilled all over my arm and pillow.

Jess never slept over. It didn’t matter if we fucked or hung out. She always left.

Right now, she looked unguaded, at peace, and so fucking breakable. I was about to pull her into me when my phone rang again, reminding me why I was up in the first place.

I removed my arm, careful not to wake her. She was tired, and my male ego inflated with satisfaction. She had collapsed on me after our second round. Sex with her kept getting better and better.

“Hello?”

“Hardwell, I’ve been calling you all morning!” Leo shouted at me.

Right away, I pulled the phone from my ear and turned the volume down.

“What?” I said as I moved away from the bed, as much as I didn’t want to.

“I chartered a jet; I have the cleaning company coming to your house, and the staff should all be moved back in by the rest of the week.”

This conversation was moving too fast. I turned to look at the bed, and I felt my chest constrict. Jess had moved now that I was no longer in bed with her. She was tangled up in the bedsheets. Her torso and half of her ass were showing. I was so focused on her that I forgot to listen.

“Hardwell!” Leo yelled again. “You can’t keep pushing this back. I’m running out of excuses.”

He was right. I knew he had a point, and I had delayed this long enough. We both knew that I could have gone anywhere in the world to get my rehab. There was no use in denying that part of the reason I’d stayed here was lying in my bed.

“I’ll be there,” I assured him.

After hanging up, I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my fingers through my hair. I had been waiting for the perfect moment to bring this conversation up. I didn’t even know how to start it or what I wanted to say. Jess wasn’t a jersey chaser. Offering to fly her to me so we could have sex wasn’t something she would be thrilled about.

Shit.

The moment I processed my thoughts, my blood went cold.

I made my way out of my room because I needed to think about my game plan…and not just for my career. Simba was waiting by the door as soon as I opened it.

“Let her sleep. You need food,” I commanded as he tried to step into the room.

My dog silently followed behind me.

I gave Simba his food and then headed for the basement. I tended to keep my schedule on track: wake up early as fuck to exercise…but lately, I’d convinced myself that fucking was a good alternative.

The first thing I did was stretch. After that was done, I grabbed the remote and put on an old game. There was something about doing this in silence and wondering if it would even be worth it at the end that had a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

If I was honest with myself, that was probably why I was burying my problems in pussy. It helped avoid the problem.

Two hours later, I stopped exercising and came up the stairs. The first thing I noticed was the aroma. It smelled good, like something breakfasty and buttery. Simba woofed and ran away from me, following the scent, hoping there was something for him.

I stepped into the kitchen, and there she was. My chest tightened when she came into view. Light shone through the windows, making the room brighter, and it illuminated her silhouette. My mouth ran dry at how beautiful she looked. She had a tight grip on a spatula while she tried to gently push Simba away with her free hand.

Something about this hit different. It wasn’t just sex anymore. Sure, it was phenomenal, and there was a level of comfort with her that I had never experienced with anyone else.

It was time to stop lying to myself. For the first time ever, I wanted more.

“Something smells good,” I managed to say, my voice low and gruff with an emotion I couldn’t begin to understand.

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