His vague response irritates me, but when I feel his thick, hard erection pressed against my hip, the irritation vanishes.
“Let’s see if I can make you speechless, then maybe you’ll rethink this plan of yours.” I push back and slither down his body.
Right before I take him in my mouth, our eyes lock and he grins. “Give it your best shot, baby.”
Quinn’s loud cursing wakes me, and I silently vow to kill her. Last night was the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten since leaving Bryce in Miami. His naked body is curled tight around mine, and I snuggle into his warmth. After ten minutes of trying to fall back asleep, it doesn’t work. I quietly extract myself from his embrace and throw on some pajamas.
The morning news is playing quietly in the living room, and Quinn is sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee. After getting my own mug, I join her and give her a dirty look.
“What?” she asks.
“Your loud ass woke me up. What the hell were you yelling at?”
“I did it on purpose. Apparently, you were in a coma. I’ve been making noise for an hour, trying to get you up.”
“Why?”
“Because I need moral support before Dean’s plane gets here in an hour.”
“An hour? I thought his flight was this afternoon.”
“He hopped an earlier flight.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just nervous and excited.”
“I can understand that. I resembled a jackrabbit waiting for Bryce.”
“But you guys are official. I’m not sure what Dean and I are.”
“We’ve gone over this. He’s obviously interested in you.”
“Think it would be too much to get special lingerie for Valentine’s Day?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I may have some for you. Looks like mine is a wasted effort.”
“Why?”
“Bryce has put a ban on sex. Every time we get close, he stops it.”
“Even now?”
“Apparently.”
“I could understand in Miami. You two had just gotten together, but now, it’s been like six weeks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, let’s come up with a seduction plan. Make it so he can’t resist you.”
“I want him to want me. I’ve loved this guy for almost eight years. Getting shot down really screws with my confidence. He knows I’m not a virgin so what’s the problem? Is sex—”
“So should I wear the purple or black?” Quinn’s eyes grow wide as she interrupts me. She nods her head and glares over my shoulder.
I turn around and see Bryce scratching his head, looking confused. He’s in a pair of flannel pajama pants and nothing else, and my mouth waters at the sight. Then I inwardly panic that he overheard our conversation. His face is unreadable, but then when he smiles at me, I relax.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I joke.