“Shhhh.” I press my lips to hers again, only wanting to hear her moans, or my name. It’s selfish and twisted, but it’s what I need.
Her moans quiet and her movements slow. I slide my fingers out of her, letting her fully come down.
“Where did you come from, Doc?” she whispers, holding my face in both her hands.
I smile, wondering the same thing about her. “No place special. I’m glad I found my way here.”
Her body goes limp, her long leg drapes over my hip. “I definitely need a shower. But my legs don’t want to work. I’m more tired than after a two-hour training session. I’m totally wrung out, Doc.”
“Happy to be of service to you.” I kiss the tip of her nose, making her face scrunch up in another adorable smile. “You should also drink some water. I’ll bring you some while you get clean.”
“Mmm. You calling me a dirty girl?” she asks, her eyes still closed as she mindlessly nuzzles my chest hair again.
I’d rather call you mine.
“If you’re dirty, then that makes me dirty, too,” I tell her, running my fingers up and down her spine.
She giggles to herself. “You’re my dirty Doc, with a really thick cock.”
Her giggles turn into full-blown laughter, and I can’t help but join her. She’s so contagious.
After a couple of minutes, our laughs die down and she starts moving to get up. “Guess I’ll stop wasting water and shower.” She places one long leg in the shower and leans back to call out to me. “Hey Jon!” I stop in the doorway and admire her incredibly beautiful body. She’s like a coloring book come to life. So many pretty colors cover her beautiful, fair skin.
“Yes, beautiful?” I ask, arching a brow at her.Nowmy dick decides to twitch back to life.Down boy.
“How’d you know where I lived?” she asks, holding onto the shower curtain and the wall.
My shoulders drop and my smile falls into a frown. “You’re not hard to find. Which is what I came here to talk about. Shower, Beautiful. I’ll be here.”
After what I found in her hotel room back in Paramount, I’m never leaving her side.
23
MARGEAUX
I joinJon on my couch. After my bed, it’s my second favorite piece of furniture. I remember getting my first real paycheck from the PEW and all I could think about was getting a bed and a couch that I can sprawl on. I paid a pretty penny for a king size bed; I like to sleep like a starfish. Couches—I can never lay on a couch without my feet dangling off the edge. Growing up, Jacky and I would always wrestle each other for our dad’s recliner. Then, Dad would come into the living room and evict us from the space.
I got this couch thinking it’s the perfect size for me and Jacky to both be comfortable. He’s only an inch taller than I am, and we’re both so leggy. It’s a sectional and takes up my entire living area. Both ends of the couch extend out into a chaise so you can really stretch and relax. Jazz helped me move it in here and I sent Jacky photos once we had it all set up. He already claimed his side for when he visits.If Zoey lets him visit. I still don’t sit on that side knowing he called dibs from a distance.
Jon is sitting in the middle of the couch. He has his undershirt back on and his boxer briefs. There are two tall glasses of water resting on coasters on my second-hand coffee table. I plop on my side of thecouch, extend my legs, showing off my body in the light blue pair of sleep shorts, and an oversized t-shirt with my college’s letters on the front. Jon eyes my legs, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. Bruises are starting to color in on his cheeks and chin from when I jumped him earlier. I hope he’s not too banged up.
I guzzle down my entire glass of water, not realizing how thirsty I was until the cool liquid hits my lips.
“I broke up with Nicolette yesterday morning,” he says as I put my glass down.
“Uhh…Okay.” What am I supposed to say?Good. She seemed like a heinous bitch.
“I went to your hotel to tell you and talk to you about us. You were gone.”
I swallow over a lump in my throat, replaying what happened the night before. Finding that letter. Being scared out of my mind. I’ve only felt that scared one other time in my life, and I hated it. I hate feeling defenseless.
“I found this in your room.”
Jon shows me the black paper with the white lettering. I beg my body not to react, not to show any weakness. It’s just a piece of paper; it can’t hurt me. That doesn’t stop my heart from racing and my palms from getting sweaty.
“What the fuck, Margeaux?” Jon says angrily. “Who the fuck is this person?”
I shrug a shoulder and then remember that I’m Margeaux fucking Wilds. I can handle this shit. “It’s nothing. We all have creepy fans. Sometimes we get fan mail that’s on the extreme side. The men get naked pictures of their female fans,” I say, trying to brush this off. I don’t need Jon acting like a knight on a horse trying to protect me. The dude has never even punched anyone before. I don’t think being a protective lover is really in his wheelhouse.
