Page 54 of Wrecked
“Okay.” I only had plans to do laundry and clean my windows anyway.
“Good.” Leaning forward, he brushes his lips against mine and climbs off the bed. Then I watch his tight ass as he walks into the bathroom, probably to take care of the condom.
Despite all the excitement of last night and then us not going to sleep until around four, I feel good, rested, sated, and energized. I wonder what time it is? Rolling onto my back, I reach for my phone to check but realize I didn't even bring it in here last night. Good thing I didn't need the alarm.
I get up and pull on the silk, floral robe Tanisha had gotten me before I moved away and head out into the living room. Finding my phone in my bag, I see that it's noon and I have a missed call from Graham from three hours ago, so I dial his number out of habit while I turn on the Keurig.
“Hey,” I chirp once he answers.
There are some shuffling sounds, and then I hear a baby cry in the background before a door shuts. “Hey.”
“Are you at Tanisha's?” I place a k-pod in the coffee machine and get a mug out for Cam.
“Yeah, she had a leak under the sink. Bishop is on the road this week and asked me to take a look at it for him.”
I place Cam's coffee to the side once it's done and put one in for me. “You're such a good man, Gray. Handsome, too,” I add because I know he hates it when I say stuff like that.
I get the sugar and cream out and then turn around to lean against the counter and find Cam standing a few feet away. He's shirtless but has pulled on his jeans and left them open at the top, revealing his black boxer briefs underneath.
Looking at his body now makes me want to run my hands all over it again. He's muscular, making me think he puts those weights in his apartment to good use, but not too bulky. He's kind of perfect.
Seeing his body, of course, leads to thinking about the way it felt against me, moving over me, and then how his fingers felt inside me . . . it has my pulse picking up speed.
I trail my eyes all the way up to his face, only to be met with a scowly expression he appears to be trying to conceal. I cock my head with furrowed brows, wondering what could be wrong.
“I'm sorry, what?” I ask Graham when I realize that he asked me a question.
“I asked what you were up to.”
“Oh, actually, I just woke up,” I answer while passing Cam his coffee and gesturing to the cream and sugar. “A . . . friend and I are just going to have a coffee, and then I'm not sure what.”
Cam's eyes narrow, and there's a pause before Graham speaks. “A friend, huh?” I can hear the pleasant suspicion in his voice. “And since when do you sleep until noon?”
The weird expression on Cam's face has me distracted and not really wanting to get into it with Graham while he's standing right there. “Since I felt like it, anyway, gotta go.” I hang up before he can reply and put my phone on the counter. “Everything okay?” I ask Cam.
He takes a sip of his coffee while keeping his eyes focused on me. “Was thatPretty-boyfrom the hospital?”
“Who?” Who on earth is pretty-boy? I run through a mental list of my patients who he could be referring to, people he may have seen me with while he was there, and why he's asking if I'm talking to them. It takes a moment, but a grin spreads across my face when I realize what's going on. “Are you jealous?”
He places his mug on the counter and crosses his arms. “I'm not jealous. I just don't like the idea of you talking to fuckingCurly-lockson your day off and calling him handsome.”
My grin widens. “Curly-locks?”
“It suits him better.”
“You mean Ash.” I step up to him, wrap my arms around his waist under his folded arms, and look up with a toothy smile. We've touched plenty of times since meeting, but I find it so exhilarating being able to touch him freely like this now. “It wasn't him. It was Graham,” I tell him, prolonging his misery for a little longer since he doesn't know who that is either. Then finally, I add, “My brother.”
I feel his body relax against me, and his arms come around to hold me against him, probably a little tighter than necessary, but I don't complain. He was totally jealous.
“Your brother, huh?” I nod in reply. “I take it he doesn't know about me yet?”
“Well, no. I mean, we only just got together.”
He releases me again and then picks up his mug to take another sip. “I mean, at all.”
“Oh. No, I haven't told him anything about you.”
I don't know why he's asking or what the expression on his face means, but the main reason I didn't mention him yet, was because I wasn't sure anything would ever happen, and I knew my brother would be relentless with his questions.
