He was still on the couch, though he’d put his skinny dark jeans on again and was drinking the rest of that coconut water while watching whatever reality TV had popped up on the television.
His music was still playing on the speakers—softer—but I could see him moving his head to its beat as he watched the show. He was so sexy sitting there on the black couch, the brick wall behind him seeming to highlight his dark ginger hair. The only lights coming in were from the neon signs across the street, the lights from the other buildings and down below, and from the TV. He must have shut off the kitchen light when he grabbed a drink from the fridge.
I smirked at the sight of him seeming so at ease there, and as I cracked the lid on my water, I leaned sideways against the door frame. I couldn’t wait for him to spin me around and rail me from behind—preferably with my hands tied behind me, one leg in the air, his hand in my hair or around my throat and pulling me backwards while he spanked—
Calm down, Chloe.
“Cats or dogs?” I asked, and Gavin finally looked my way.
His gaze darted wholly over me, and it was clear he hadn’t been paying attention to what I said. I shifted beneath that stare, feeling like he might rise from that chair and scoop me off the floor again.
“What?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - GAVIN
“CATS OR DOGS,” she repeated.
I had to adjust myself as she stalked my way. Shit, this outfit was even hotter. Then again, at this point, I was sure she could make trash look sexy.
“Ah… dogs,” I replied upon her reaching me.
She reached onto the couch and grabbed my sweater, and when she leaned over, she paused at my face, smiling widely before kissing me in a lingering manner. Were I not trying to recover from our previous bout, I would have pulled her onto the couch again and taken every liberty with that body of hers.
She pushed my sweater over her head and then straightened to go back into the kitchen. I playfully grabbed her ass as she left, making her jerk; a quiet laugh escaped her lips, though she kept going. I leaned back and watched her walk, allowing my gaze to travel over her pear-shaped ass, watching it jiggle as she opened the fridge. I was ready to watch it shake across my lap or from behind as I slammed into her.
Patience, I told myself.
“Car that you would give your right testicle for?” she called out as she bent to peer into the freezer.
“No, not the right one,” I said, grabbing my chest. “That’s my favorite.”
She lifted a brow at me over the freezer door, and I scoffed.
“Black 67’ Chevelle,” I answered.
Her lips puckered, making an “ooo” sound as she emerged from the freezer with a pint of ice cream. “Had to be the sixty-seven, though.”
“Would be the 69’—“
“If it wasn’t for that damn nose,” she finished, grinning widely.
I chuckled under my breath, surprised that she knew the car at all, and I was even more curious about the ice cream in her hand. Although, as I continued to watch her, I couldn’t help playing along with her questions.
“Job at sixteen,” I asked.
“Veterinary tech,” she answered. “Ruined my entire desire for the field.” She grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer. “Ice cream?” she asked, holding up a spoon.
I mockingly rubbed my abs and slumped further into the couch, legs widening. “Surprised you have to ask after that round.”
Her smirk widened. “I hope you’re not completely exhausted. We still have quite a few hearts to get through,” she said. “What was it you said at the bar? That you had planned on doing each of these to me? One by one?”
I ran a hand through my hair. The bar had felt like a lifetime ago. ”My plans haven’t changed,” I promised.
She closed the drawer with her hip and left the lid to the ice cream on the counter before making her way over to me again. “I have a bad habit of eating ice cream on nights that I’m up late,” she said as she crawled onto the couch at my side. “Mostly leading up to the holidays. Big sales and all. Everyone needs a graphic for every little thing.” She licked a heaping mound of ice cream off the spoon. “It’s the fucking worst,” she said with a full mouth.
I chuckled at her, and she dug another heaping teaspoon out, then held it for me to eat. “Ice cream and reality tv,” I said as I leaned forward and licked the cookies and cream flavor. “Shit habit of mine as well.”
“God, doesn’t it make you feel better about yourself?” And the brutal honesty of her tongue made me laugh. She sighed back against the cushion. “This is the first night since last summer that I haven’t been buried behind my computer,” she admitted. Her head rolled and she looked me over. “You’re a terrible distraction.”
