26. Monroe
TWENTY-SIX
MONROE
SO I’VE GOT A THING FOR SEXY SHOWER TIMES, SUE ME.
I settled deeper into the warmth, fighting off the pull to wake up and face the day.
The groggy post-wake-up haze diminished and I froze, realizing the pressure at my back wasn’t the mattress. A dainty arm clung to my middle, hot pink nails splayed across my abs.
Am I being spooned?
Over my shoulder, I spotted a small body curled against me, so close not even a paper would have fit between us.
Graciella’s onyx hair was swept away, her normally expressive face peaceful.
Her lips parted slightly, letting out small snores.
A quiet chuckle slipped out when I realized there was a damp spot on my back, right where her face was.
Why did I like that she drooled in her sleep?
She shifted, curling in tighter like she was a damned koala trying to glue herself to me. My dick twitched, the movement making me suddenly very aware that my ass was firmly pressed against Graciella’s hips.
Last night’s events roared back.
We kissed.
It had nearly killed me to pull apart from her, to not take it further and sink into her. But she’d shared about her shitty father, and I’d told her about Rachel.
And as much as I wanted to ignore the other cloud hanging over us, as far as the public knew, I was dating another woman.
Graciella had fallen asleep on my chest, legs tangled with mine. If I were a better man, I would have rebuilt that damned wall the moment her little cat-like snores filled the room.
But I wasn’t.
And because I had no fucking self-control, I’d held her, teasing at the edges of her shirt, purposely grazing her skin every few swipes.
Now I was suffering the consequences with a raging hard-on that went beyond the usual morning wood. A problem I’d need to take care of feet away from the woman who’d caused it.
Think small thoughts. I swung my legs off the bed, keeping my upper body as still as possible to not wake her.
Four years ago, I wouldn’t have known how to get out of a bed without waking someone. Now it was another random skillset on my resumé, along with chasing out monsters from closets, being a unicorn, and adjusting a shit ton of stuffed animals until they were “in the right spot.”
As if sensing my exit, Graciella’s hand flexed, sliding lower on my body. Adrenaline shot through me—she was headed straight to the very thing I was trying to go take care of. Out of desperation, I rolled—right off the fucking bed, catching myself before I hit the floor.
I froze, staring at her to see if she’d wake.
The corners of her mouth pulled down into a small frown, hand searching along the warmed sheet…for me. She was seeking me out. I slipped my pillow under her arm, watching as she pulled it to her chest, nuzzling her face into it.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
And not just externally. There was something about Graciella that made her shine in any room she entered, but not like the sun. No, she was more like the moon. Everyone could see her, but she was glowing and mysterious.
She might appear open and give everyone a chance to get to know her, but it was an act. A way of keeping people at bay. She fed them little pieces of herself while keeping the rest tucked away.
But she’d let me in last night.
I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo before I could think better of it and slipped into the bathroom.
A scalding stream pelted my skin, and I hoped it would clear my head. But all I thought about was those breathy moans she’d let out as our tongues slid over each other.
Fuck, that kiss.
Those soft lips parting for me, her body pressing close like she couldn’t get enough. My cock twitched against my thigh as the hot water cascaded down my chest, steam filling the air.
I leaned against the tiled wall, the cool ceramic a sharp contrast to the burn on my skin, and wrapped my hand around my shaft—thick and heavy in my grip. Veins pulsed as I stroked, slow at first, imagining her fingers wrapped around me instead.
I was so fucked. Getting off on thoughts of kissing her.
I squeezed tighter, pumping from base to tip, the slick sound echoing off the tile. Her scent from earlier lingered in my mind—citrusy and sweet. I groaned low, my head dropping back as I pictured her on her knees, those full lips stretched around me while her fingers dug into my thighs.
“Just like that, Trouble,” I muttered, breath ragged, hips bucking into my fist. The heat built fast, coiling in my gut.
God, I wanted her.
Wanted to pin her down and fuck her senseless, hear her beg for more. My strokes quickened, rough and desperate.
A soft moan cut through the noise, and my head snapped to the side, attempting to see through the fogged glass.