Maddox’s eyes meet mine. “Say you need five,” he mouths, slowly beginning to slide his calloused finger in and out of me in the most tantalizing way.
I can hardly keep my eyes from rolling back, let alone muster up the voice to say anything.
“Andi? Come on, let’s go,” Reed says.
“I’m changing pants,” I have enough sense to say.
Maddox smirks against me, his lips landing on my cheek almost praisingly. There’s a delight in his green gaze that has me nearly forgetting that Reed is on the opposite wall's other side.
“So bad,” I mouth to him.
He grins. “You love it,” he claims with a fleeting kiss. He curls his fingers and plunges aggressively inside me, making my mouth drop and my chest cave. His nose brushes on mine like he knows exactly how fragile he’s making me. Over and over and over, picking up speed to the point that I have to clamp my fists around his shirt. I want to let go of the noises threatening in the back of my throat. The strain of denying that whine and plea has me shaking in his arms.
Reed pounds on the door again.
“Give me five minutes!” I cry out. “I can’t decide what I want to wear.”
“Open the door,” Reed argues. “I can help.”
“I’ll be out in a minute—”
“I’m coming in.”
“Shit,” I hear Maddox hiss.
I shove him back, my heart pounding as I search for any place for him to hide.
Maddox throws himself into the bed and under the covers. He motions to the pile of dirty laundry and my suitcase, and I quickly throw all of it on top of him as he pulls the bedspread over his curled-up figure.
It’s a chaotic mess; however, it’ll have to do.
Because the door is opening.
Reed sticks his head in as I shove my shirt down over my open jeans. “Jesus fuck, Reed—”
“What’s wrong with what you have on?” he asks as he peers over me.
I gawk at him. “It isn’t what I was wearing thirty seconds ago,” I say as I button my jeans. “You didn’t have one more minute of patience?”
“When have I ever had patience?” Reed asks, and his genuine look of innocence makes me shake my head.
“Give me another minute to make sure I have my bag together,” I nearly plead with him.
Reed nods and takes out his phone. He taps the screen a couple of times as I grab my purse from the floor, and when he presses the phone to his ear, I frown.
“Who the hell are you calling?” I nearly balk.
“Mads,” he answers.
Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t have that ringer on.
“Why are you calling him?” I ask as my heart skips a few times.
“Because he isn’t answering my texts,” Reed says.
“Okay, so can you do that in the hallway?”
Please go in the hallway.
