Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Dice
The word you’re looking for is orgasms.
Adull sound nudges me from sleep. I stir. There’s a warm weight on my chest. Soft. Feels like something I don’t want to wake up from.
Then it all clicks.
Lot.
I open my eyes. Her head rests on my left pec, cheek pressed against my bare skin.
Her body’s tucked into my side, one breast flush against my ribs, her arm across my stomach, leg bent over mine, knee dangerously close to my morning wood.
Although, the fact that I’ve spent the night with Lot all on me probably has more to do with it than the morning.
Her face is relaxed in sleep. A beautiful portrait of gold, brown, and pink.
That sassy mouth slightly parted, drawing slow, even breaths.
A mouth I had kissed for the first time last night.
And it had been the best kiss of my life, bar none.
It’s as if every kiss before her were merely campfires.
But this? A whole damn blaze. She was all silky heat and combustible energy. I never wanted anyone more.
I tried to pace myself, keep things slow.
But when I discovered she was naked beneath that dress, fuck slow.
I wanted to eat her up and go back for seconds.
And I did. She was hot and wet and getting her off—three times—was the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced.
I gave her a moment to catch her breath, planning to rouse her for round four.
But the orgasms must have knocked her out because the next thing I knew she was dead asleep.
I should be flexing with pride. Instead, my chest is all twisted up watching her.
The dull sound comes again, yanking me from feelings I don’t want to examine too closely. An alarm from Lot’s phone. I gently nudge her, mindful of where her knee is. I place a hand on it for good measure.
“Lot?”
She doesn’t move. Still out cold.
“Lot?” I try again, louder, giving her a firmer shake.
She lets out a disgruntled groan, then tenses like she’s suddenly realized her body’s in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She bats at my hand just as her eyes start to blink open, bleary at first, until I come into focus.
Then her mouth twists into a snarl. “Why am I—” She cuts herself off mid-sentence as she registers she’s in my bed, naked, sprawled across me like a cat in sunlight.
Her eyes narrow into a glare. “Did you let me fall asleep on you?”
“Pretty sure you did that all by yourself.”
She scowls, dragging herself upright, gripping the sheet to her chest.
The alarm sounds again.
“What’s that noise?”
“Your phone.”
“Shit.” Holding the sheet to her front, she scrambles off the bed, disrupting Queenie in the process, who had found her way into the room and was curled up on her side of the mattress. She meows in indignation.
But my eyes are on Lot. Her body is a fucking wet dream. Soft rolls and luscious curves. Thick globes of her ass jiggling as she rushes across to the dresser where I’d plugged in her phone.
She turns off the alarm. “I’m supposed to pick up Maurice for physio. That was my reminder.”
“What time’s the appointment?”
“Ten. I have less than an hour to go home, change, try to get Queenie into her carrier so she doesn’t tear up the house, pick him up, and get him downtown. Why didn’t you wake me so I could leave?”
Because I wanted her to stay, but I was not gonna admit that. “You’re blaming me for wearing you out?”
She shoots me a look that could remove paint. “I didn’t plan for a sleepover, and I still have to pack up all her stuff—”
“Lot.”
“What?” She pauses mid-rant. Half her locs have tumbled out of their hold, and her mouth is all pout and irritation.
I get up and approach her. “You don’t have to do everything. Let me help.”
She looks down at my junk, then back up, squinting. “How? Can you stop time?”
“No, but I can loan you a pair of sweats and Queenie can stay here. That way you just have to swing home for shoes, then go get Maurice.”
“You’re offering to babysit the holy terror?”
“We’ll manage. Let me take a couple of things off your plate. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to win her over.”
That earns me a half snort. “Sorry for being a bitch. I’m not pleasant before my morning coffee.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Okay, or after it either. But you don’t have to be rude,” she mutters.
“I like you just the way you are, Web.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no heat in it.
I shove my legs into joggers and duck into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. While Lot showers, I picture her wet and naked, my soap on her skin. Now that I know what she looks like, tastes like, the image is crystal clear.
Attempting to distract myself, I get Queenie a fresh bowl of water, grab some treats from the bag, and put on the coffee.
Lot appears ten minutes later, hair up in a ponytail, freshly scrubbed, smelling like me, and wearing a pair of my sweats. The pants are like tights on her thick thighs while the top is baggy on her frame. She looks damn cute.
“I don’t have cream, so I hope black coffee will do,” I say, handing her a stainless-steel to-go cup.
“I just need caffeine.” She blows through the lid and takes a cautious sip. “Not bad. Thanks, Jones. Really. You’re being cool about me leaving you high and dry last night. Didn’t mean to. I guess the combination of the drink and…” She waves her hand vaguely.
“I believe the word you’re looking for is orgasms.”
“Whatever. I owe you.”
“When?”
“You pick. I gotta go.”
She squats down to talk to Queenie who’s been stalking her ankles. “I’ll be back this afternoon. Don’t go ballistic, okay?”
“Meow.”
Lot straightens. “I’m not sure that was agreement. I’ll try to get her into the carrier.”
After a mini drama involving treats and the plushie, Queenie is finally locked inside, hissing with fury.
“Sorry, girl,” Lot sympathizes. “I’d hate to be jailed like that too.” Her hand flies to her mouth, eyes wide. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine, Lot. I knew what you meant.”
“Shit, Dice. I know you don’t like talking about it.”
“I don’t,” I say flatly. Jasinder Jones is my least favorite subject. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve gotta get going.” I brush it off and walk her to the door.
She slips on the stilettos, wobbling a bit.
“Making quite a fashion statement,” I say, throwing her a grin and lightening the mood.
“Right?” She kicks one heel back like a showgirl.
I help her into her coat and keep my hands on the lapels even after she’s shrugged it on. I pull her in a fraction. “Do I get a goodbye kiss?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because kissing outside of bed action might complicate things.”
“Lot, nothing about us is uncomplicated. Just kiss me.” I lean in. “You know you want to.”
“God, you’re cocky.” But her arms loop around my neck anyway. Her lips press to mine, warm and parted, giving me her tongue. A kiss intoxicating enough to make my knees dip.
She pulls back first, eyes slightly glazed. “Gotta go.”
“Damn, you pack a punch. I might not survive you.”
A flicker of a smile plays at the corner of her mouth before she’s gone. Wearing my sweats and those sexy stilettos, she moves like sin down the walkway with her keys dangling. I watch until Lot pulls away from the curb, then return to Queenie. She’s still howling like she’s been abducted.
Through the bars of the carrier, I see the green glare of betrayal. I’ve seen that look before. Brown eyes. A cold burn. Concrete walls. My mother’s face.
Nope. Not today. Jasinder made her choices. And I made mine.
Shaking off the memory like a bad chill, I crouch by Queenie’s carrier and pop the latch.
She creeps out cautiously, tail high and twitching like she’s conducting a threat assessment.
She paces to the front door, looking for Lot, then roams the rooms and returns.
As if realizing her person’s gone, she settles on the couch like a sulking queen.
I slide two slices of bread into the toaster, then scramble four eggs and nuke them.
That’s the extent of my culinary talent.
Used to be Lot’s too, but now she apparently cooks.
I let the eggs cool a bit before I inch some of the scramble toward Queenie on my palm.
She sniffs, then nibbles and comes back for more.
“Okay, Queenie. I see you.”
After I wash the rest of my breakfast down with coffee and juice, I toss her a few more treats. I then flip through some vinyl, slide on my headphones, and let the music wrap around me.
But my thoughts drift back to last night. To Lot’s breathy moans and screams, the way she clawed at my back, how she trembled and begged, breaking through her stubbornness. How she came all over my mouth, and how I loved drinking up every drop of her pleasure.
I’ve never had this before. A woman I genuinely like in and out of bed.
And I plan to enjoy every minute of it.