Page 138 of The Chance

I groan and bury my face in Jordan’s neck. “Maaaa.”

Heat radiates off of my sleeping buddy inwaves.

“I’ll give you fifteen to get decent. Then we’re going for breakfast.”

“Ma,” I groan out and pin her with a glare she shrugs off.

Somewhere in my apartment, a phone rings and my mother’s sight trails to Jordan. “You might wanna answer that.”

His swallow is so hard that I hear it click, and he nods.

I’m half a second from protesting, preparing to wrap around him like a spider monkey if only to get five more minutes of snuggle heaven, when he gathers me up like we aren’t damn near the same size and lifts us off the couch.

If a man can squeal, that’s exactly what I’m doing when shaky feet are planted beneath me and he leaves me standing in the middle of my living room.

“Shut up,” I tell Ma, the heat of her stare burning holes in my back, my face aching from the stretch of my grin.

A slap lands on my shoulder, and I snicker.

“I’m just glad to see that smile, baby.” I turn in time to catch her shrug. “But tell me to shut up one more time.”

I snort.

“Love you, Ma.”

“That’s what I thought. Now go get dressed you heathen.”

I mock salute the woman with a middle finger and head back to my room on light feet.

Throwing on the closest clean shirt and pants, I snag a bandana and tie it around my forehead as I step up to the sink in my bathroom. I’m halfway through brushing my teeth when I feel eyes on me. It’s almost like a caress down my back and over my ass, but when I meet Jordan’s gaze in the mirror, he looks almost shaky.

“Tyro?”

He jolts like I startled him, a flush rushing all the way down to his chest.

I spit foam in the sink and meet the reflection of his gaze. “You okay?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Yeah.”

My brows furrow, but I rinse my mouth and the toothbrush to give him a second to collect himself. And it’s for me, too.

I’m still leaning over the sink, focusing on my breathing, when arms band around my middle.

“I’m covering so you can go out with Marie.” My heart skips as his chin rests on my shoulder. “But I gotta talk with Ian after that.”

I nod, unable to do anything except place a hand on his tatted arm and trace over some of the abstract patterns.

Is this where we go back to the real world?

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

“What?” Looking down, I find the emblem of a gym on the front and shrug. “It smelled clean enough.”

He snorts, his lips pressing against my thundering pulse.

“Do you know how hard it is to not touch you right now?” I bite my lip, and he nips at my neck. “To not taste every inch of your skin?” The swipe of his tongue leaves me shivering.

“Tyro,” I groan out only to gasp when his hand feeds beneath the shirt and flattens against my abs. The tips of his fingers dip beneath the denim covering my rapidly filling cock, slowly lowering until I feel a digit on each side of my shaft.

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