Page 55 of Seven Night Stopover

As she melted into his arms, he growled his satisfaction. Bending his head forward, he caught one lace-covered pink nipple in his teeth and bit down hard.

A couple of thousand miles away, Mike stared at his friend for several seconds then he shook his head. “I can’t believe you fucking chickened out.”

Damon shrugged, the back of his neck heating up at the embarrassing truth. Feigning bravado, he quipped, “So shoot me if I don’t see the point in upsetting the balance of things just yet.”

“Things have been unbalanced for a long time. And trust me, hewillshoot you when he gets back and realizes we knew and didn’t tell him.”

Damon grimaced. “Then I’ll happily celebrate my stay of execution while the celebrating is good.” He made eye contact with the waitress and held up two fingers.

She brought their drinks a few minutes later and frowned at their somber looks. “What’s up, fellas? Somebody die?”

Mike glanced over at him and smirked. “Not yet but this time next week, I’m sure one of us will.”

Rolling her eyes, she slid their drinks on the table and left.

Damon took a healthy gulp of his neat vodka before he glanced up. “You think I should call him back?” he asked halfheartedly.

Mike eyed him, tapping his finger against his glass. “How did he sound?”

“Good. Great, even. Not his old self but then are any of us our old selves?”

The tapping increased in tempo, reflecting his friend’s agitation. The sick feeling churning through Damon’s stomach grew.

“I think we should leave it, let Gabe get back, then draw straws again,” Mike said.

“Crap, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Hell no, but like you, I’m not in a hurry to tell my best friend the reason he left New York two years ago has turned up on his doorstep.”

“Who’s the knitting committee?” Leia gasped out the question, stunned she could speak coherently considering every inch of her body was on fire.

Noah’s head reared up from where his tongue was sliding down her inner thigh. “What?”

“Your call. You said something about a knitting committee?”

His mouth curved, and her stomach flipped over at the sheer beauty of his smile. “Yeah. My pain in the ass friends.They’re nosier than a gaggle of high school girls and they’re not ashamed to own it.” He rubbed his stubble over her skin and she shuddered.

“They called to check up on you?” She slid her fingers through his silky hair, making sure her nails grazed his scalp the way he liked it.

He groaned and blew a hot breath over her wet, hungry pussy. “Yeah, at three in the morning. Like I said, they’re a menace to my sanity.”

She thought of her own life, of the absence of friends or any meaningful relationship in her life besides Warren. Her social life had come crashing to a halt the moment her mother put the gun in her mouth and blew a hole in the back of her head. By the time Leia surfaced from her own fog of horror, Warren had taken control.

He’d been in control ever since?—

She jerked at the merciless clamp of teeth on her flesh. Gasping, she stared into sexy…suspiciousblue eyes.

“Did we not agree that I own your attention completely when we’re together?” he rasped.

“I… Yes.”

“You were drifting just now. Where were you?” he demanded.

“Nowhere important.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Honest,” she insisted.

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