Savannah glares at me, eyes stormy. “Okay, this has been fun, but seriously, you can’t just lock me in your bedroom against my will.”
I toss her onto the mattress and step back, sucking in a deep breath and willing my heart rate to slow.
What am I doing?
She’s right. I barely know her, yet I’m losing my damn mind over her.
“You’re not locked in here. You’re welcome to go,” I say, turning away, fingers laced and hands on my head. My heart is still racing, my chest burning.
“That’s—” Her words stop abruptly, and the room falls silent.
I whip around and find her studying me, her expression curious rather than angry.
“That’s not what I want,” she says.
“Then what do you want?” I take a step back, making it clear that she’s in control.
The door is open and the music and voices from the party float around us. Most of my friends, some of my family, and a ton of my players and colleagues are here for a holiday party. Yet I couldn’t give a fuck. All that matters to me in this moment is the woman in front of me, the woman holding all the cards and my full attention.
“I just want to slow down for a second,” she says, like she doesn’t know what to think either. “And maybe a glass of wine,” she adds, a small smile finding her lips.
“How about we start with water? Then, in a little bit, if you’re still in the mood for wine, I’ll bring a bottle up.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Her voice is back to that teasing tone, her lips tipped up.
A sense of lightness floods me. Thank fuck.
I stride to the mini fridge and pluck out a bottle of water. When I turn around again, she’s settling back against my pillows, her legs tucked beneath the throw blanket that’s usually draped at the foot of the bed.
I can’t imagine that dress is comfortable, so after handing her the bottle of water, I pad into my closet and dig out a T-shirt and sweats. When I come back out with them, she tilts her head and frowns, her eyes full of confusion.
“Thought these might be more comfortable. They’re here if you want. But obviously, you’re more than welcome to go back down to the party if you prefer. Or sit here in that dress. You’re in charge here.”
Savannah shifts up onto her knees, and then without tearing her eyes off mine, she shimmies her dress up her thighs.
“Fuck,” I mutter, but I can’t tear my attention away from her body. With a heavy swallow, I force myself to say, “Want me to give you some privacy?”
“Please don’t,” she murmurs as she drags the dress up, exposing her bare pussy, her wide hips and creamy stomach, and fuck, those tits. I knew they’d be incredible.
She’s completely naked for mere seconds. I refuse to blink as she snags my white tee from the mattress and pulls it over her head. When she’s covered, the shirt falling to her mid-thigh, she sighs and plops back onto my bed, ignoring the sweatpants, and settles beneath the covers.
Her wild red hair fanned out over my shirt like that? I swear to god she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s better. Thank you,” she says, burrowing into the pillows.
I’m three feet from the bed, paralyzed. Pretty sure her naked body has been tattooed on my retinas.
“Can you sit with me?” she asks, her voice soft.
My legs move accordingly. They know who’s calling the shots here, and when I settle beside her, one leg still on the floor, she snuggles against me.
Cheek pressed to my chest, she peers up at me. “Will anyone come up here?”
I survey the wide-open door and shake my head. “No. But I can close the door if you’d be more comfortable.”
“Then will you lay with me?”
I smile. “Yeah, baby girl, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
