Page 49
Killian frowns at me. “Go where? You live here.”
“Piper. I have to go see Piper. Girl talk, you know?” I expect him to protest, but Killian just nods, understanding dawning on his face.
“Far be it from me to get in the way of girl talk. I’ll bring you both breakfast. How does that sound?”
My god. Is he actually a saint? What kind of man not only encourages the morning-after debrief, but offers to cater it?
It only muddles my brain and my heart more. But my body? Not confused in the slightest. And right now, my body is winning.
I push down the blankets and whimper at the sight of Killian’s cock. If I’d known he’d been hard this whole time, I might have been distracted from my spiraling earlier. I straddle his hips, and we both groan as I brush his cock.
“What happened to girl talk?” he asks, sounding a hell of a lot breathier than he did a moment ago.
“Girl talk can wait.”
I don’t bother knocking on Piper’s front door; she doesn’t get out of bed until she absolutely has to on Sundays. I let myself in with my key and shout, “It’s me!” before making my way upstairs. I didn’t bother with a jacket for the short walk across the street, and I probably could have forgone my sweater. Piper keeps this place hot enough that she can pretend the fluffy blanket of snow on the ground outside doesn’t exist. She’s not a winter person.
As expected, I find her with her blankets up to her chin, and her tablet propped up playing one of the crime shows she loves.
“You have a child-free Sunday for the first time in I don’t even know how long. Why are you not still in bed?” Piper asks as she sets the tablet on her nightstand and lifts the blankets.
I climb in, my body sinking into her marshmallow mattress. I don’t know how she sleeps on this.
“I’m in your bed,” I answer and she laughs.
“Good workaround.”
“Did you have a good night after we left?”
Piper’s eyes light up. “Sure did.” She grabs her phone and pulls up a picture of a man in a pristine black cowboy hat. “This is Stephen. He’s a software engineer from downtown Calgary, and he’s taking me to dinner next weekend.”
“Nice,” I say, appreciatively, though Stephen is so not my type. He looks like a less rustic version of Landon. Gross.
“What did you get up to when you left?”
I brace myself. This is it. I suck in a breath and just blurt it out. “I had sex with Killian.”
It’s almost comical, watching Piper process the words. Her eyes widen, and she sits up, slamming her hand on the bed, her mouth open wide.
“Scarlett.”
“Yeah.”
“SCARLETT!”
“I know!” I hold my hands up.
“Holy shit.” She rubs her face, shaking her head in disbelief. “I mean, damn, Scar. You have extremely specific taste.”
“Hey!” It’s a weak protest, because … yeah. Not that I’d call Dom “my taste”. He was just there.
Piper raises a brow, because she knows as well as I do that I can’t argue. “Tell me everything. How did it happen?”
She lies back down as I tell her everything from the beginning, and her expression slides from pissed at Dom to impressed when I get to the conversation I had with Killian in the car.
“And how was the sex?”
“It was …” I stare up at the ceiling, and sigh. How the hell do I condense that into a few words? I feel like I could write a whole damn book and still not do it justice. “Honestly? I didn’t know it could be like that,” I say, finally.
