I reach up to her mouth, run my thumb along her bottom lip. "Ask me nicely."
She raises her eyebrows. "I don't ask for anything nicely."
"If I recall correctly, you were begging pretty well earlier," I say. "Now you're changing your tune?"
She smiles before wrapping her lips around the tip of my finger, and all I can picture is her lips wrapped around my cock. "Too much talking," she says. "One night, remember?"
In the morning, Delaney murmurs in her sleep, incoherent nonsense words but I listen anyway. She's lying with her head on my chest, her hair splayed out all over, finally asleep after one more round of sex followed by an outrageous amount of talking about random meaningless things. It's like the sex loosened her tongue, made her punch drunk or something. It made us both that way, I guess.
Delaney was giggling, laughing at stupid shit I said while we laid in bed, kind of like she used to when we would hang out at night. Except this time, we were naked. And I wasn't trying to get in her pants anymore, because I already had.
I'd always figured that if I ever tapped Delaney Marlowe, that would be the end of it, just like the way it worked with every other chick I'd ever met. The chase is everything – it's the aftermath that I can't fucking stand.
But with Delaney, I don't want to leave. So I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her, filing it away in my memory bank. Just in case she's serious about this being a one night stand.
She finally stirs, rolling over onto her stomach to look at me, her expression satiated, at least until she registers it's me. Then it changes to a look of panic. "You're still here," she whispers.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
"What time is it?"
I glance over at the alarm clock on the table. "Eight."
"Eight?" she asks, sitting bolt upright. "Shit. I have to jump in the shower. Chelsea will have my ass if I walk into work late. Didn't my alarm go off?"
"Yeah, but you looked so comfortable, I didn't want to wake you."
"Damn it, Gaige." She slides out of bed and runs in the bathroom to turn on the shower before she comes back out. "How the hell are you going to sneak out of here?"
"I thought I'd lounge around in your bed naked until the housekeeper came in to clean, and then I'd tell her the whole story of what happened between us last night."
Delaney's eyes go wide. "I swear to God, Gaige, if you don't get out of here…"
"Relax, sweetheart," I say, not bothering to hide the edge to my voice. This isn't how I fucking pictured this morning going at all. "I think you need to postpone that shower. A little morning sex would significantly improve your mood." I toss back the covers and gesture toward my cock.
"One night, Gaige," she says. "That's it, remember?"
"Did we say one night or one day?" I ask. "Because if it was one day, then technically we still have until tonight. Twenty-four hours."
Delaney sighs. Why do I love the sound she makes when she's exasperated with me? I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but getting under her skin is thrilling. It's like foreplay. "One night, Gaige. One night and that's it. How are you going to sneak out of here?"
I slide out of bed, crossing the room to where she stands, naked. Usually women, at least the kind of women I hook up with, look worse for wear in the morning. But not Delaney. She looks better than she did last night, standing here with her hair tousled, a smudge of mascara under her eyes, a fresh flush on her cheeks.
Don't even get me started on that fucking body of hers.
I run my palm over her waist and the side of her curvy hips, before moving it between her legs. "Instead of me sneaking out of here, why don't you let me lick you again?"
Delaney inhales so sharply that it's audible in the room, even over the white noise of the shower. "I have to shower."
"It can wait."
She pries her hand away from where it rests between her legs. "Our parents will be awake."
"Your father will be at work already, and Anja's probably sleeping it off somewhere," I say.
"I'll be late."
I shrug. "Chelsea can wait," I say. I can't stop looking at her lips. They're still pink-tinged around the edges, swollen from my kisses, and I kiss her again, lightly, but she turns her head away, touching her fingers to her lips.
"I have morning breath," she says.
I tilt her head up to me. "I don't care."
"Gaige, don't," she whispers. "Please."
She turns and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. And shutting me out. Just like that.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
I let the shower water run over me, half-hoping that Gaige will yank open the shower door and step inside, pushing me up against the wall the way he did last night. I can still feel his hands on my skin, the smell of him lingering in the air. When I wash him off me, I'm a little sad.
But I put thoughts of him aside. I hooked up with Gaige O'Neal once. I can't hook up with him again. Even if every part of my body is screaming at me to go back into the bedroom and tell Gaige that I want him.