Ten
“You sure?”
Chirp!
“Oh yeah, you’re right. He totally likes it.”
Chirp!
Voices stirred me from a deep, warm sleep.
“You can try... but she didn’t seem keen before.”
“I swear, if there are fingers anywhere near my nose...” I mumbled, my lids blinking open with a glower.
“Oh, don’t worry, Master Fishy.” Opie took over my eyeline, Bitzy on his back. “That’s not where she was putting them.”
Groaning, I dug my head into Warwick’s arm I had been using as a pillow. Stretching, every bone and muscle ached and felt like melted butter.
The man was arrogant as hell, but my gods, did he have reason to be. The legend could not only fuck all night, but all day as well. What startled me was I was right there with him, tasting and exploring every inch of him, craving more each time. Our bodies finally gave out in the middle of the night, which I’m sure the base was thankful for. We were not quiet or restrained in our energy.
Rubbing my eyes, I took another peek at Opie, a snort tickling my nose. “What in the hell are you wearing today?”
“You like?” He twirled around in what had to be a doll’s baby bonnet, likely taken from one of the kid’s toys here. It was streaked with glitter. His chest was bare, and he wore a pink baby bib around his waist. Shoelaces were braided through his beard. Bitzy was wearing another bonnet, with earholes cut out and dazzled with glitter. “This place tested my creativity. Everything is so drab and boring. When can we go back to Ms. Kitty’s? Her stuff was so fun. Bitzy misses her hat.”
“I can think of other uses for Bitzy’s hat,” Warwick muttered sleepily, rolling over onto his side. He pulled me against his warm body, his hands gliding over my ass before he pressed his heavy length into my back.
“Did you just purr?” Opie blinked at me.
Fuck . . . did I?
Warwick hummed with pride, digging his head deeper into the back of my neck, pulling me firmer into him.
“And why the hell are you two on the floor?” He motioned to the single bedframe over his shoulder, which now was nothing more than scrap metal. “What the hell did you do to it? Origami?”
Warwick snorted.
It wasn’t far off. I doubted a steel-enforced bed could survive Warwick. The tiny little cot didn’t have a chance, not even making it through the first round. The entire middle caved in on itself until the footrail and headrail met.
“You can’t see what it is?” Warwick chuckled into my neck. “It’s a ‘fuck off and leave us alone’ sign.”
Chirp!
Warwick didn’t even look up, just stuck his middle finger over my shoulder at Bitzy, saluting her back.
Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!Fingers flew.
“Wow.” I laughed, peering over my shoulder at him. “Better sleep with one eye open.”
He grunted, his head still hiding in my hair.
“You destroyed this room.” Opie wrung his hands together, peering around. Clothes were strewn everywhere, furniture broken, the lamp cracked. “I mean, not that I care... it’s fine... I mean, if you like living in a war zone... sure... I mean, why would it bother me?”
“Especially because you hate to clean.”
“Right!” He threw out his arms in agreement, but his expression was pinched, his attention still circling the mess. “I hate to clean, even when people live in pigsties.” He inched closer to a pair of pants, pretending not to fold them. “Really, really hate cleaning...”
“I bet the showers don’t need cleaning either.” I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Good excuse for a new outfit.”
