Page 44 of The Import Slot
I head over to the sink and fill my glass, ensuring I spill it just enough to justify my bending over to get a fresh tea towel from the bottom drawer.
I hear him suck in a breath as I bend over. His effort with the puck is greater now, as if he’s focusing all his energy on it.
“Goodnight,” I say as I walk past with the glass, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes are down when he wishes me goodnight.
I must have passed out because I’m still in the same position when I wake up, but Ryan is flat-out next to me. It’s dark, but I can smell him and he’s breathing steadily, like he’s sleeping. I climb out of bed and slip into the adjoining bathroom quietly, and when I climb back into bed and pull the covers over me, Ryan pulls me into him.
I rest my head in the nook of his neck and shoulder, feeling his hard chest exposed. The stubble on his neck scratches me, but I love it. Being with him in his bed feels surprisingly familiar. Like I’ve been here hundreds of times before. I feel conscious that I don’t have a bra on, but he doesn’t say anything; he just holds me close, gently circling his finger over my lower back and t-shirt until we both fall asleep.
Chapter 13
Ryan
Afiercevibratingwakesus both up. Jen bolts upright in bed and grabs her phone. She curses under her breath and then clears her throat before answering her phone.
“Oh, hi Kirsty, yeah, thanks for meeting with me—”
Kirsty? I try listening to the voice on the other end of the line but can’t make anything out.
What’s the time, anyway? It feels early.
I roll onto my side and look at Jen. She’s deep in conversation and she’s playing with her hair as she talks. She’s smiling, nodding and making ‘uh-huh’ sounds, but I’m only really paying attention to her nipples poking through her t-shirt.My t-shirt.
She says goodbye to the caller and puts her phone on the nightstand, then she squeals with delight.
“Good news?” I ask, hopefully.
“So, that was Kirsty,” she says, as if I should know who Kirsty is.
I furrow my brow, so she elaborates.
“Kirsty from HR. From the club, dumbass.” She smirks before shimmying down the bed to lie down and face me.
“Shit, yes, Kirsty,” I say.
“Well, anyway, I’ve been offered a job at the club.”
“What? Our club?” I say.
She nods, beaming, and then tells me how it came about.
“I’m still waiting on the offer email, but they are bringing the web content all in-house and want me to run with it. I’ll have a project manager and access to Vicky’s media productions and all that. There’s a lot of designing and planning to do before I can actually get started on the good stuff though. Mr Lopez said we’ll be taking advantage of Cloud off-premise hosting, but we need to agree on the demand first.” She carries on talking, but most of it goes over my head; I have no idea what hosting is.
“Congratulations, Jen. I’m so proud of you.” I sit up slightly and lean down, getting closer to her face, but she rolls away and bolts into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“You okay, Jen?” I call, but she doesn’t answer immediately.
“I’m just mindful that I don’t have a bra on. I’m embarrassed,” she calls after a few moments. She may have seen me looking, but I can’t help it. What’s a guy to do? I think back to last night and her visit to the kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. Thank fuck Danny was in bed because that show was for my eyes only.
“After your parade last night?” I scoff. “Jenna. Babe. Do you know how much self-control I had to exercise not to bend you over that counter last night?”
That does it. The door squeaks open and she’s standing there in a towel, ready to take a shower by the look of it.
“I’ll have you know; I really needed a glass of water.” Her innocent expression does not wash with me.
“Of course you did,” I say, getting out of bed.
I’m not hiding my arousal now, though. My fitted boxers make it impossible to hide my raging boner and I know Jen has seen it.
