“One hundred percent.”
“You not letting me have a choiceischauvinistic, Zach.”
With a flounce that’d make Addison proud—not that I tell her that—she scuttles off the bed.
At least, that’s what I figure she’s doing.
Until she yanks off the duvet, tosses it aside, knocks my desk, and switches my gaming console off sleep mode. While my character, Lucius Nightshade, stares at the ceiling in his bunker at the guild’s HQ before falling back asleep and snoring, she crawls between my knees.
There are at least fourteen seconds where I gape at her blankly.
That whole thing set her curves into action, making her tits bunch together inmyjersey, her hips swinging in a way that has my morning wood turning into a problem.
A massive one.
I gulp.
God, those short, bare legs were wrapped around my waist six nights ago and I’m so ready to feel that again.
Fuck!
“Do you always keep my jerseys?”
She tugs on the fabric. “What?”
“My jerseys. From my old teams?”
“Of course.”
Fact no. 6.
My voice turns hoarse. “You wear them to bed?”
“Yes.” Her chin angles to the side. “Every night.”
I learned that this week but…
“Thewholenight?”
Her smirk will be the death of me. “Yes. When I masturbate too.”
My head tips back. “I need to see that before I die, Denny.”
She slaps my thigh. “Shut up.”
“I do. I have to see that because when you fulfill that fantasy, I will expire.” I lick my lips. “I figured you still sleep in pajamas and wore them this week for…me.”
Maybe if I’d known this sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted my firsts on anyone that wasn’t her.
“Why would I do that, Mr. Bighead? They’re comfortable.”
I press my fist to my forehead. “You’re making it really hard to be a gentleman, Denver.”
“Something’s really hard. Thinking about me touching my clit while I wear your name?—”
“DENNY,” I bark.
Giggling, she runs her hands up and down my thighs, her short nails scratching over the muscles, making me jolt in surprise.
