Timeline: after Broken and Screwed 2
I trailed kisses up her throat.
Alex’s little tank top was stretched over her thin frame as she was half on her side and half on her back. Her head was tucked under a pillow and I pulled back, stopping just to watch her. Half her hair was sticking up while the other half was pressed down to the pillow. As she moaned and rolled all the way to her side, the hair kept its shape, flattened against her head. Some small strands fell over her face and as she breathed, they moved up and down. They were tickling her and her hand flew up, flicking the hair out of the way, but they moved back into place.
She reached up again to swat at them, hitting her face as she did.
She was beautiful.
Then her eyes opened and she stared at me a moment. A sleepy fog was still in her eyes, but she murmured as she lifted a hand to my face, “I thought you were a fly. I was going to swat at you.”
I laughed, capturing her hand in mine. Moving above her, I pinned her hand down to the bed and stared at her, absorbing every little detail about her. “You did, but you hit yourself.”
She groaned. “So that’s what that was.” She snorted. “Figures.”
Pretty little Alex. Those had been the words Tiffany called her yesterday when they had a spat over dishes. When they realized who had left the mess in the sink, all of them yelled for Jamie. He got dish duty for the rest of the week, but those words stuck out to me. Pretty Little Alex. I had a feeling the name would stick. I felt a grin coming. She hated the name yesterday, but it was true.
My hands went to her waist. She sucked in her breath in at my touch and my hands rose, moving gently over her body, rising all the way up to her breast in a caress. This. This woman was mine. She wasn’t a girl. Alex had been through so much. We’d both been through so much, but fuck—I loved her. Asking her to move in with me had been the best idea I had ever had, even though she had to put up with our friends.
“Hey.” Her hand lifted to cup the side of my face. I leaned into the touch and she asked, “What are you thinking?”
“How lucky I am.”
A radiant smile lit up her face. “You are, aren’t you?”
Another laugh left me and I bent down, touching my lips to hers. I wanted to savor this woman and this moment. We were supposed to have the house to ourselves. Everyone was supposed to have left for the weekend and I had plans. The shower. The kitchen table. The living room floor, then the couch, then we’d spread a blanket in front of the fireplace. Hell, even the garage on the tool box. The patio? Was that do-able? Maybe not. Oh—the hot tub. I needed to clean that out, first. Jamie had two girls over the other night. As I kept listing off the places in my head, Alex’s hand fell to her stomach and she groaned, rolling to her side.
“What?” I moved to the side. “What is it?”
“Oh my god.” Another moan. This one sounded worse than the first.
The first bit of panic rose up my throat. “Alex? What’s wrong?” I touched her arm and turned her to her back again so she was looking up at me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I—I think I have my period.” Her hand fell to her pajama shorts and she grimaced, before flinging off the sheets to race for the bathroom.
My mind went blank.
The bathroom door slammed shut.
“My god!” she screeched. “I do. I hate being a woman.”
I collapsed back onto the bed. Well. Fuck me.
A second later, the door opened again. I should be the good boyfriend. I should look over, ask her what I needed to do for her, or hell—I should just do it. This wasn’t our first rodeo. Heating pad. Painkillers. And her kindle. Those were the only things she wanted when she was cramping. But, damn. I had so many plans for the day. I was even going to order pizza and eat a slice off of her stomach. My woman. Sex. Pizza. That was my heaven. And beer, but I was in training. No beer for me.
When she didn’t say a word or return to the bed, I looked over. She was standing in the doorway, biting down on her lip as her hands were twisted in her top.
I pushed up, resting on my elbow. “What?”
“The face.” She gestured to me. “How you look right now. It’s priceless.”
I rolled my eyes and raked a hand through my hair, pushing so I was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I had plans, Alex. Great plans. Monumental plans. Shit only guys dream about plans—”
Then she started laughing and launched herself at me. Pushing me back down on the bed, she straddled me and her hands fell to my shorts. “I was kidding.”
She said—“What?” I grabbed her hands so I could sit up, but she grabbed them and pinned them down to the bed, mirroring how I had her earlier.
“I’m. Kidding.” She gave me a wolfish grin, her eyes darkening, and she lowered her mouth to my stomach.
I wasn’t going to get mad. That was the best news ever and Alex wasn’t in the speaking mood anymore. Her mouth started moving south and as she inched my shorts down, I laid back and closed my eyes.
Like I said before—fuck me.
I loved this woman.
Author of Carter Reed, the Fallen Crest Series, the Broken and Screwed Series, the Jaded Series, and a whole bunch more.