“Goodnight, ladies.” I slip my jacket on and turn as I step into the hall, taking one last mental image of my two beautiful friends, who smile back at me from their doorway. I let out a contented sigh as I make my way down the stairs to their front entrance.
There is no loneliness left inside me. I’m all filled up. It’s a feeling I never want to forget.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Hey you,” I whisper, slipping under the covers next to Warren. We’ve gone to bed together every night this week, but I haven’t found him in my bed without me before. I love how normal it feels to see him sleeping here.
“Mmm. Hello.” Warren reaches out, eyes still closed, and brings my face to his so he can kiss me—he misses and kisses my nose. “Have fun?” he mumbles.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Good.” He moves his hand under his pillow, settling back in.
My cheeks warm. “Are you awake?” I ask, raising a brow in the dark.
“Nope.”How does he manage to sound sleepy and sarcastic?
“All right, I guess I’ll put my pyjamas on then.”
Warren opens one eye, which makes me giggle. As he reaches a hand over my back, he opens the other, wide with surprise.
“You’re naked!” he exclaims, still attempting to whisper.
“I am.” I stifle a laugh.
“How presumptuous.” His voice lowers in pitch, and he brings my body a little closer with a grasp on my hip.
“How can you be sleeping one minute and using words like presumptuous the next?” I tease.
“How can you still be horny after the week we’ve had?”Touché.
“Oh, just me then? Shucks, okay… I guess I’ll—” I’m interrupted by Warren tightening his hold on my hip and pulling me until I land on top of him, straddling his thighs. “You’re also naked!” I laugh.
“I’m very presumptuous.” He sits up, speaking inches away from my mouth as our smiles meet for a kiss. “Mmm. Hey.” Warren firmly clasps my jaw, tilting me back from the kiss I’m insisting doesn’t need to end. I grumble in response. “You taste like wine, dove. Actually, you taste like a whole barrel. Are you drunk?”
“Not drunk… tipsy.”
Warren sighs, the heat in his eyes cooling off. “Well, then perhaps we should call it a night.”
“I take it back. I’m stone cold sober,” I say through pouty lips.
“Sorry, dove. I’m not taking advantage of wine-drunk you.”
I roll my eyes. “I, Chloe Jean, am of sound and sober mind and amreallyhoping you take advantage of me.”
Warren scoots up to sit against my headboard. “Prove it.” He lifts a brow.
“Seriously?” I say, frustrated.
He nods, amused at my annoyance, as usual. I bring my arms out to the side of my body and touch my nose with my pointer fingers in sequence.
“Good enough?” I glare at him in the dark.
“Alphabet, backwards.” Warren’s voice is low again, a timbre that suggests we’re about to beginveryconsensual activities after all.
I move up his lap until his hardness is pressed against my lower belly.
“Z.” I lick the section of skin between his earlobe and jaw that always makes him inhale sharply through his teeth. “Y.” My fingers wrap around the base of his throat, squeezing in the way he’s told me turns him on. “X.” I kiss him gently before biting down on his bottom lip, dragging it so he sits at attention, leaning into me. “W.”
