Page 25 of Tan Lines & Trouble
"Nothing. I...just...this isn't a dream?"
Griffin shoots me a perplexed look. "Definitely not."
"Huh," is all I can say in reply. Because Blake wouldn't have ever even considered nursing me back to health from a hangover. No, he would have told me it was my own fault and then lectured me on being more responsible. So yeah, this totally feels like a dream.
He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the Advil, popping the cap off and passing me two. "C'mon. Take these and I'll order breakfast while you shower."
"Um, okay. Yeah. Thanks."
He stands and heads to the bathroom, apparently to start a shower for me. I follow his instructions before standing and following after him. It's not until I stand that I realize I'm wearing an oversized shirt instead of my pajamas—his shirt if the divine smell is anything to go by—and nothing else.
"Griffin, did we..."
"Did we what?"
"Did we fuck?"
His eyes twinkle. "What do you remember from last night?"
My brow furrows as I cue up a replay of yesterday in my brain. Our morning started off a little awkward and I spent the entire day turned on after listening to him get off in the shower like the perv I apparently am. We beached it and drank most of the day. Then we had dinner and talked about literally anything and everything under the sun. And then we went dancing and...my cheeks heat and my pussy throbs as I remember theway Griffin finger-fucked me against the bar with people all around us.
Unfortunately, anything after the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life is a total blank.
"I remember everything up until you getting me off in the club."
His lips quirk in amusement, like the gaps in my memory are the funniest thing ever.
"If we fucked and I don't remember it, I'm going to be pissed for the rest of my life. You know that, right?"
Griffin steps away from the shower and prowls toward me. "Baby doll, by the time we got back from the club, you were out of it. Those last two shots probably hit right around the same time as you creaming all over my fingers. So, I brought you home, helped you change and tucked you in."
"So...we didn't?"
"Trust me, you'd know if we did. You'd feel it."
"Well, the only thing I feel like right now is shit."
He moves even closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck. "If we'd have fucked last night, if I'd have been inside your sweet little pussy, you wouldn't be feeling like shit. Wrecked, maybe. Sore, for sure. But not like shit. Never like shit."
All I can manage is a shaky nod, my words seemingly lodged somewhere in the back of my throat. Which is probably for the best, because I think if I did manage to speak, I'd end up begging him to wreck me here and now on the bathroom floor.
"Go shower and I'll order room service, okay?"
Another nod.
"Call me if you need help."
My brain, the pervy little organ, immediately starts flashing all the ways he could help. With his fingers, his tongue, his gigantic dick.
As though he can sense my dirty thoughts, Griffin wraps his arms around me, palming my ass with both hands. He hauls me into him, and I nearly moan at how good and strong and solid he feels against me.
"Let's table whatever it is that has you rubbing your thighs together and your eyes glazed until you feel better, yeah? Because Blue, when I fuck you—that's right,whennot if—you're going to want to be at your best, okay? So, for today, let me take care of you and then maybe tomorrow we can see about taking care of each other. Does that sound good?"
Again, I nod.
"Good." He presses a kiss to my temple and then steps around me, leaving me with my flustered thoughts, pounding head, confused heart, and screaming libido.
SIX
