Page 68 of With A Little Luck
“You forgot your water. I brought you another. It’s on the nightstand,” he whispers close to my ear. “Good night, angel.”
I suppose that answers the question of whether Trigg has cameras hidden throughout Ridge’s house. If nothing else, he has them in the living room, meaning he watched and probably listened to my conversation with Ridge. I wouldn’t be shocked to find he put cameras in here, too, but I’m too tired to address it right this moment.
I don’t open my eyes to acknowledge Trigg. I never heard him come in, and I hear nothing that leads me to believe he’s left the room, but some part of me is at peace knowing he’s watching over me.
Now to figure out how to get Hart on board with Trigg’s unusual style.
I’m too tired for that now.
It’ll have to go on tomorrow’s to-do list.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Hartley murmurs close to my ear as we take a quick shower the next morning. His warmth frames my back while his cock bumps around my ass. “All I could smell when I woke up was Trigg’s stinky armpit funk, and you snored worse than my old teammates back when we had to share hotel rooms for away games. That’s kind of an accomplishment.”
“Hart!” My hands fly to cover my face.
Pregnancy is embarrassing.
It’s not the ideal time to start a new relationship. I’ve never been told I snore before, but I also have no trouble believing his words are true.
He chuckles. “Like I said, you’re lucky you’re cute because somehow the snoring was precious. I could do without smelling Trigg first thing in the morning, but waking up with your ass pressed to my dick was a solid diversion.” His hands slide down my sides. One teases over my hip and down to cradle my pussy while the other works up to cup my breast.
It’s a good distraction from how big and open the bathroom is. Even the shower is fancy, with a strip of frosted glass across the middle to offer some illusion of privacy. A bench takes up the entire end wall, and it has a panel of buttons that Hart mentioned is for swapping between the rainfall feature, the normal dual shower heads, and the wand-sprayer thingy hanging over the bench.
He pinches my nipple and spreads my lower lips, circling my clit.
My head falls back against his chest as my eyes close. The water helps mute some of it, but his scent still permeates the air.It’s like the weather on a cold, snowy morning when you step out and want to take a walk in the woods.
I love it…almost as much as I appreciate him keeping us from falling over. He nudges my feet apart just a little, which gives him more room to work my core. His hard length bumps my ass, and the low groans he releases as he scrapes his teeth over my shoulder are intense. But just like he held me together at the seams last night, he also keeps me upright this morning.
It’s a wild feeling being able to count on him, and I’m growing addicted to the way he always makes me feel safe.
Long arms for the win.
Hart teases his thumb around my swollen nub and tests my opening with what feels like two fingers.
I’m already slick—just from the tender touches as we soaped each other up. My inner walls cling to his thick digits, and I groan.
He’s magical.
He knows just where to aim and how to stretch his fingers to send me soaring. “You like that. Don’t you, beautiful? Imagine my cock in place of my hand. How stretched you’d be then.” He growls, grinding his slick shaft against my ass.
Hart swaps between teasing my tits and flattening his hand on my sternum to keep me in place. Everything amps up, and I have to lean against his muscular chest with how violently my legs shake.
“Come all over my fingers, and I’ll let you have my cock.” His warm breath fans over my neck, and he nips at my ear. He crooks his fingers, raking my G-spot, and I tumble over the edge.
My shoulders tremble as euphoria rips through my nerve endings, and a choked moan slips from my lips. He knows just how to wring every ounce of pleasure from my system, stretching and twisting his fingers.
Hartley keeps me upright, teasing my clit with lighter pressure while allowing me the chance to come back to reality. As soon as my eyes pop open, he pulls his hand free of my core.
“Don’t fall over.” He chuckles and moves to the bench, stretching back and wrapping his fist around his length. His blue eyes meet mine as he licks his lips. “I ache for you, Quincy.” It comes out low and gravelly.
I move forward, and as soon as I’m within reach, he wraps his forearm around my ass. He really must not trust my center of gravity.
Not that I have much more faith in it these days.
He tugs me closer, and I climb onto his lap. The shower bench digs into my shins almost painfully, but Hart latches on to my nipple, flicking his tongue over it, and it distracts me from the discomfort.
I moan, my head falling to rest on his shoulder. He released his shaft when I climbed onto his lap, but he works around my stomach and grabs his length once more. His tip bumps my lower lips and brushes my clit.
