Her eyes rake over my chest before she glowers at me. “Of course I am. Why aren’t you lying down? It doesn’t matter.” She shoves the glass full of the mysterious contents. “I need you to drink this.”
“What is it?” I pick the glass and sniff it. It smells like syrupy sweet strawberries.
“Pedialyte.”
“Isn’t this for kids?”
“Do I need to call it an electrolyte drink to make you feel like abig boy?”
If I didn’t have a migraine, my dick would be hard as a rock. “Smartass.”
“Drink.”
I do as I’m told and drink the sickly sweet water. “That shit is gross.”
Savannah rolls her eyes. “It tastes like every other sports drink, you big baby.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Even though my stomach feels queasy, I finish the rest of the drink.
“Good boy.” She takes the glass from my hand, grazing my fingers and sending a spark through me.
My cock comes to life at the worst possible time.
Well, that’s new. I didn’t know getting called a good boy would make me hard.
“Babe, I’m gonna need you to call me that when my head isn’t about to explode and I can actually do something about it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Savannah chuckles as she squats down between my legs and starts untying my laces, removing my shoes. Her pouty lips are too close to my dick; I can practically feel her breath on my tip.
Visions of her on her knees and my cock in her warm, wet mouth float through my head.
Thank the fucking baseball gods it’s dark as hell in the room and she can’t see the huge boner I’m sporting. I didn’t even know my dick could work in the middle of a migraine episode.
When she reaches for my pants, I stop her. “I got them.”
“Right.” She pulls her hands back quickly as if she’s been burned, and I swear I can see her cheeks turn pink in the darkened room.
Savannah excuses herself to the bathroom as I slip off my slacks and, in only my boxer briefs, I lift the duvet and slide under the cool fabric. Facing the middle of the bed, I rest my head on the silky cool pillows and close my eyes, letting myself sink into the mattress.
I listen to Savannah move around my apartment as if she’s done it a thousand times before. Like she belongs here in my space.
Something cool and wet touches my forehead, making me moan.
“Is this okay?” Savannah whispers, and her sweet voice soothes the rough edges of my discomfort more than the damp towel on my forehead. She swipes the towel over my face before she wraps the washcloth around the nape of my neck.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good. Get some sleep,” she whispers.
The bed dips, and even with my eyes closed, I can feel the heat of Savannah’s body lying close to mine. I crack my eyes open to find her lying on the pillow beside me, her palms pressed together under her cheek, and her eyes studying my face. She’s so close I smell her citrus-scented shampoo. My fingers itch to touch her.
“You’re staying?”
“Do you want me to go?” She bites the inside of her cheek nervously.
I want nothing more than for her to stay.
I inch closer, absorbing her heat. Her presence sends a wave of contentment washing over me, pushing away the pain in my head.
