“Come on. I’m taking you home.”
“Is it closing time already?”
“It is for you. You’re exhausted.”
“Yeah, but was it worth it?” I ask. “How’d we do?”
“You killed it. Are you going to be able to do it again tomorrow?”
“I can do it for a few days, but I must admit you had a good thing with two chefs in the kitchen. One person can manage for a while, but while you are searching for your long-term replacement, look for a sous-chef as well,” I tell him. It’s been a long time since I’ve handled so much on my own. It’s a rush of its own kind, but not one that’s indefinitely sustainable.
Wade holds out his hand. “Come on, Trouble. The truck’s warmed up and bed is waiting.”
I yawn wide enough to make my eyes water. “Enough with the sexy talk. I’m already coming home with you.”
He makes sure I’m safely inside the house before driving back to the bar to finish his shift. Since I had access to his washer and dryer, I have fresh laundry, including the light, lacy negligee I wore onboard. I pull the covers up to my nose and close my eyes.
I’m half-awake when I feel cool air hit my shoulders. Wade slides between the sheets. His hair is wet, and he smells of his patchouli soap. I snuggle closer and enjoy the coarseness of his chest hair against my cheek. “What time is it?”
“Almost four.”
I’ve been asleep for three hours. Enough to recharge my batteries. “When does the bar close?”
“Two. Then Mason and I did the books for a while. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not tired anymore.” It isn’t a complete lie. I’m no longer exhausted. What I am is laying in a barely-there nightie beside the selfless and sexy biker who thoughtfully drove me home when I was tired and then went back to work himself. “Are you tired?”
He shifts on the mattress. “I should be, but I’m not.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me snugly to his front. I can feel how hard he is. “How about you?”
“I caught a second wind. Why don’t we burn a little of this excess energy so we can both get some sleep?” I suggest.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I kick the blankets to the foot of the bed. Goosebumps pop on my skin. Wade gently pushes me to my stomach. I hitch myself to my elbows and arch my back deeply, stretching away the last remnants of sleep and sucking in the oxygen I know I’m going to need.
Wade quickly covers my exposed back. His heat coming right after the cold air elicits a full body shiver that has me rubbing all over him.
“Don’t worry, Trouble. Let me get you there.”
He slides his hand under me. He palms my breast before his fingers move to my nipple, where he starts teasing and pulling it gently. Like every other time, my body immediately reacts to his touch, pulsing heat and wetness in anticipation of what I know is to come.
“Why can I never slow down with you, Trouble?”
“Who’s asking you to?” I pant. I roll my hips in an attempt to position myself better.
He trails his hand from my stomach to between my legs. “I need to feel how much you want it, Melissa.”
“For fuck’s sake, Wade, if you can’t tell how bad I want your?—”
Suddenly, his hands shift so he is gripping my hips, hard. He leans back, pulling me down the mattress, my breasts and arms flat on the sheets, my ass raised like an offering to him.
“Fuck, Mel, you are soft in all the right places,” Duck growls as his hips press against my ass. He drops a kiss between my shoulder blades, his warm breath drawing another kind of shiver from me.
“And you’re hard in all the right places.” Every touch on my skin zings straight to my core. “You’re making me hot all over. Aren’t you hot, Duck?”
He rocks. His cock rubs the outside of my pussy, not trying to enter, just gliding through the wetness leaking from me. “A day without you is too long, Melissa. I don’t want to wait any more.”
“So don’t!” It isn’t a shout. It’s a cry after waiting a lifetime since the last time we made love.
