Page 58 of Call it Reckless

Eventually, Reid pulled himself from me. I watched through sleepy eyes as he went into my bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. Thinking he was going to wash and then leave, I was surprised when he returned and gently tugged me to the shower, where he pulled me in with him and gently cleaned me.

That had led to more caresses, more strokes, and after he made me come for the third time, he jerked himself off while I watched until he came all over my chest. He washed me again, but this time, we made it to the bed afterward. I was surprised when he curled up behind me, the big spoon to my little. I liked it and fell asleep, more content than I had been in a very long time.

* * *

Flashes of lightdanced across my eyelids, waking me. The alarm clock told me it was past eleven, which explained why the swaying magnolia branches outside my window were casting late-morning shadows inside my room. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept this late.

God, what a night. I hadn’t had sex like that since…well, ever.

I stretched, feeling aches in more than the usual places before rolling over, instinctively seeking the warmth that had cocooned me most of the night.

The other side of my bed was empty. The pillows were cold. I listened for sounds of anyone else stirring in the house, but it was completely quiet.

Reid was gone.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Bristol

Call you later.

I closed my computer and pushed it back on the table, glaring at the note that had been left by my coffee machine this morning.

All I’d accomplished in the last hour was paying a couple of bills and clearing out my emails. I’d kept up with the business emails, but it had been days since I checked my personal one, as almost anyone I wanted to hear from would call or text me.

That was enough to put me in a grumpy mood. There’s been the usual junk trying to sell me something, one that I marked to reread later that was inviting me to join the chamber of commerce, and three asking for more interviews. Damn journalists. They just wouldn’t give up and let me live my life in peace.

My dad had loved the attention. He knew it was part of the job, whether he won or lost. It was good publicity, an opportunity to share his love and disappointments. He knew how to charm, that was for sure. He’d become a beloved racing legend. But ever since he was killed, the spotlight had turned to me. In the beginning, I appreciated that the fans wanted to mourn with my family. But then the position changed, and the questions became about potential lawsuits, made-up allegations, and worse, asking if I feel responsible in any way. They were like vultures circling, searching for any scraps they could publish that would drum up more drama. It had eased for a while, but word had gotten out that I wasn’t returning to the team, and a few persistent reporters kept asking for updates.

But even that wasn’t the main reason I was having trouble focusing.

I’ll call you.

Nolast night was great, noI had a great time.No return number. At least he had set up the coffee maker so I had hot coffee by the time I came downstairs.

It wasn’t like we’d set any kind of expectations last night, and I understood he had responsibilities at home. We hadn’t gone on a date.

We argued. We baited each other. It was oddly exhilarating. But a precursor to sex?

And not just any sex. Who would have guessed that beneath his worrywart personality, there was a man who knew what he was doing between the sheets? Or against the door. Or in the shower. There wasn’t a part of my body where I didn’t have a memory of Reid, places that he kissed or nipped, or where his hands had grabbed or rubbed.

I blew out a breath. This was getting me nowhere.

My kitchen door opened, and Paige walked in, looking cute in a navy knit cardigan paired with a white top and skinny jeans. She’d topped it with a colorful scarf that hung in artful waves. She threw her oversized handbag on top of the kitchen table, barely missing my computer. The only thing that gave away she wasn’t as fresh as she appeared was the way her eyes were still half-shut.

“Good morning.”

She shook her head and held up a finger before crossing to my cabinets that held the coffee mugs. She grabbed one, filled it with coffee, and took several sips before she collapsed in the chair across from me.

“Morning,” she grunted.

“Sleep well?” I teased.

She glared and lifted her middle finger.

“Nice.”

“This is your fault. You know I can’t drink like that. How the hell did we get home anyway?”

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