Wingman [Woman]
Page 14

He winks at me before speeding off.
Well, I guess you could call that a success.
CHAPTER SIX
Bang, bang, bang.
I groan and sink deeper into my warm bath.
Bang, bang, bang.
Not getting out.
I hear the sound of keys rattling and then my door slams. Reign. He’s the only one who has a key to my house. I gave it to him when he gave me one to his. It only seemed fair. We spend a great deal of time together, and we’re forever coming and going at strange hours.
I hear footsteps pound through the hall, before the door to the bathroom opens and he steps inside, wearing a pair of dark-denim jeans and a tight, black T-shirt.
“Still sulking?” he asks, shutting the door behind him.
I stare up at his face, but say nothing; I simply fluff the bubbles around me and ignore him. He walks over and sits down on the side of the tub. “You want me to say sorry?”
“No, because you don’t mean it.”
He nods, pursing those perfect lips a little. “No, but I’m trying to be nice.”
I snort. “Are you always such an ass? I could have been raped or . . . I don’t know . . . chopped into thousands of pieces.”
“You watch too many horror flicks.”
I give him a sarcastic look. “One phone call, Reign.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I know. I fucked up.”
“How’d it go, anyway?” I ask
He shrugs. “Awkward, but we talked.”
“And . . .”
“And there’s nothing else to say. Shit doesn’t get fixed that easily, Tiani.”
“Okay,” I say, sinking down further into the water. “Now, can you go away? I’m relaxing.”
“You fuck Xander?”
“Should I have fucked Xander?” I ask, staring up at him.
His golden eyes pin me and I feel my skin prickle. “No.”
“Why? Does he have a small penis? You can tell me.”
His lips quirk. “No, he’s just an asshole.”
“Aren’t all men?” I sigh, closing my eyes.
“No, babe, they’re not.”
“We’ll see. Now . . . are you leaving?”
He shakes his head, running his hand over his delectable abs. “I’m hungry, are you hungry?”
“No, I’m tired.”
“I’ll order a pizza.”
“Reign!”
He stands, running his hand through his messy hair. “Pepperoni?”
“It won’t matter. I’ll be asleep.”
“I’m sleeping with you. I can’t be fucked driving.”
“No you’re not,” I protest. “You kick.”
“You snore, we’re even.”
I sigh. “You have your own bed. Your own home. Your own pizza.”
He walks out, not acknowledging me. Reign and I have a strange kind of relationship: it’s as though we’re a married couple, only we’re not. We’re just friends, working partners, and two people who just seem to fit.
The way we get along, it’s almost an insult to fate for us not to fuck.
I get out of the bath after another fifteen minutes, and pull on a pair of sweats and a Cubs shirt, before walking into my room. Reign is on the bed, shirtless, flicking through my channels. As I said, an insult to fate. He’s got a pizza box on the bedside table. I walk over, flopping onto the mattress.
“Didn’t your parents teach you not to eat in bed?” I murmur, fluffing some pillows behind me.
“No.”
I roll my eyes as he hands me a slice of pizza. I only get half way through before handing it back.
“You not hungry?” he says, staring at the half-eaten slice. “You usually fight me for the last slice.”
“No, I’m too tired.”
He narrows his eyes. “You still pissed at me?”
“No, Reign.”
He throws the pizza box aside and turns to me, pinning me with a panty-melting stare. “Sure?”
“I’m sure.” I yawn. “I’m seriously just tired.”
“Well, go to sleep. I’m watching this movie for a bit longer.”
I nod and shuffle down into the sheets, rolling to my side to block out the light. I can sleep through any kind of noise, but light is a whole other story. I yawn again and then my eyes flutter closed.
Before I know it, I’m out.
~*~*~*~
Mmmmm, a warm hard body against mine. A breath tickling the back of my neck. A hard . . . shit!
My eyes snap open as I realize whom that body belongs to. A gasp escapes my lips when I go to move only to see that Reign has tangled his legs with mine, and because of the position we’re in, the moment I move his cock presses into my ass.
“Oi!” I say, thumping my foot against his leg. “Get your morning wood out of my ass.”
A sleepy chuckle comes from behind me and he untangles himself, rolling to his back. “You put it there,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.
“I did not,” I protest, stretching my arms.
“Did so. You wiggled towards me during your sleep like a desperate little puppy wanting to be stroked. As soon as I put my hands on you, it’s like a drug. You drop off and don’t move again.”
My cheeks flush. “All lies.”
“Not. You reached out and took my hand last night, pulling it over yourself as if I was your damned blanket.”
I sit up and glare down at him. “Well, you slept in my bed.”