Page 149 of By His Play

God. Last night was a blur of touches, kisses, teases, and orgasms.

If he wanted to get me out of my head about what today holds, then I can safely say that he achieved it. But the comedown is…intense.

I step out of the bathroom and swipe the shirt he was wearing last night from the floor. Wrapping it around myself, I do up a handful of buttons before stepping out into the living room.

I scan the big room, and my breath catches when I don’t immediately see him.

My heart sinks into my stomach.

I didn’t consider the fact he wouldn’t be here on the other side of the door when I woke.

But I guess it’s the right thing to do.

He’s already putting space between us.

I need that.

I need to figure out a way to walk on my own two feet and restart my life.

Sure, he’s always going to be there. His presence in my life has never been in question. But it’s not going to be like this weekend, or even the last few weeks.

He has a life. A career.

Hell, so do I. Or at least, I did.

Hanging my head, I move toward the small kitchenette where I spot a coffee machine.

The easiest thing would be to order room service, but the thought of having to see someone puts me off.

My coffee is almost done when a door opening has me spinning around.

A breath I didn’t know I was holding comes rushing from my lungs when my eyes land on a sweaty, exhausted-looking Kieran.

He walks through the living area in a pair of black shorts, a t-shirt that is soaked and stuck to his torso, and he has a towel wrapped around the back of his neck.

His hair is dripping with sweat and sticking up in all directions, and he has a good few days’ worth of stubble covering his sharp jaw.

My thighs clench as I vividly remember how it felt rubbing against my thighs last night as he repeatedly licked chocolate from my body.

“Hey,” he says, smiling at the sight of me, but as I study him, it’s immediately obvious that it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake yet.”

“No, I wasn’t either,” I mutter as I lift my mug to my lips and blow across the top.

“That’s your first, then,” he laughs, ignoring my morning grumpiness. He’s more than used to that by now. “I’m going to shower, then I’ll order breakfast.”

I grimace, the thought of food making my stomach turn over again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a frown marring his face.

“Too much champagne,” I say. We went through two bottles last night.

Honestly, I’m not sure if he ordered the champagne for the drink or if he just wanted the ice…

I shiver at the memory of him teasing a cube over my heated skin.

It felt so damn good.

Especially on my?—

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