CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Chloe
If I could dream the same dream, a million times over, it would be of you—sleeping peacefully in my arms, every morning, for the rest of my life. Gone for a run, beautiful girl.
That was what the note on his pillow said when I woke up. Red ink. How could you not love him when he said things like that?
“You wanna just stay here for a couple of days? We can have a proper look around, see if we really wanna live here?”
He pushed off his arms. “Forty-eight,” he said, before moving in to kiss me.
It was one of the best parts of my day. When he came back from his morning run and did his sit-ups and push-ups in front of me. Shirtless. Sweaty. Showing off muscles I’d never known existed. I watched, my head on the edge of the bed, and after each one, he’d kiss me. He said it was his motivation to keep going. To keep pushing himself. He said I was his reward. “That sounds great.”
“How many more?”
“Fifty-one.” He kissed me again.
“I wonder if I could do a hundred push-ups.” I got out of bed and got on all fours next to him.
Arms outstretched, he watched as I got into position. And then he laughed so hard that his arms buckled beneath him and he fell on the floor. “I dare you!”
“It can’t be that hard.”
“Babe, I make it look easy, but I do five hundred of these a day.”
I stretched my legs out behind me and tried to copy his form. “So one hundred should be easy, right?”
“Sure,” he laughed. “Go ahead.”
Two.
I got to two before collapsing.
“You’re so weak!” His cackle was so loud I was sure you could hear it in every room of the hotel.
“Shut up!” I lunged for him, but hitting him was like smacking a brick wall.
He stood and made his way toward the bathroom. Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, he mused, “I can’t believe you thought you could do a hundred.”
I leapt up and brushed past him, ripping off my clothes as I did. I froze just inside the bathroom door. His eyes lit up as they roamed my naked body. A smirk appeared instantly. He stepped forward, his hand already out, ready to touch me.
I slammed the door in his face, making sure to lock it. “I can’t believe you thought I’d let you touch me!”
He banged his fists on the door. “Chloe, this shit isn’t funny!” he yelled. “My dick’s about to snap off!”
Blake
“Blake!” she yelled from the shower.
I opened the bathroom door in time to see her cover herself.
“You can’t just walk in! I’m in the shower!”
She moved to the corner of the tub to hide herself more.
“Babe, I’ve seen you naked.”
“Get out!”
“You were the one calling me!”
“Turn around! Don’t look!”
I took a step forward. Just enough that I could see her eyes narrow and the snarl on her lips. And a nipple. There was definitely a nipple.
“Quit looking and turn around!”
I chuckled but finally did what she asked. “What do you need?”
“My lotion. It’s in my bag. Can you bring it to me?”
I left the room, went to her bag, and rifled through it, looking for the lotion. I found the lotion, but I also found something else.
I couldn’t hide the smirk from my face when I went back into the bathroom, hands hidden behind my back. She was already out, one towel wrapped around her hair and another around her body. “Did you find it?” she asked, hand held out expectantly.
I nodded, trying desperately not to laugh.
Her eyebrows bunched, her head tilted slightly as she took me in. Then it all played out in slow motion. Her eyes went huge, and a gasp escaped. She knew. “What else did you find?” she whispered.
“Nothing.”
“What’s behind your back, Blake?”
I squared my shoulders. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her face flushed instantly. “Oh my God,” she breathed before quickly looking away.
“It’s kind of huge.” I stood behind her, so we were both facing the mirror. “I mean, is that what your expectations were? I think I’m close, Chloe, but I can’t be sure.” I wrapped one arm around her stomach to hold her in place. I moved my other hand to the space between her and the mirror, revealing her bright-purple vibrator. “Should we compare?”
And just like I’d suspected, her feet kicked off the ground, and she tried to bolt for the door. My grasp tightened, keeping here there. “Why are you trying to run? Are you embarrassed?”
“Blake!” she squealed, trying to wriggle out of my hold.
I let her go, just long enough to shut the door so I could stand in front of it, keeping her in the tiny space of the bathroom.
“Oh my God.” She covered her face, but the blush had taken over, from her chest up to the tips of her ears. “This is so bad.”
My body shook with laughter as I examined her toy. “I have so many questions right now, I don’t know which one to ask first.”
She grunted.
It made me laugh harder.
“Fuck it,” she said. She uncovered her face and raised her chin. “So what? I have needs. Big deal.”
“You have needs?” I repeated. I held the vibrator up between us. “That’s some pretty big needs.”
“Shut it!” she yelled. But she was smiling, too.
“Does it have a name? I mean . . . did you name it?”
She threw back her head in laughter, the blush almost completely gone. “Yes.”
“Yes?” I stepped toward her. “What’s its name?”
“Pussy Hunter!” she yelled through a chuckle.
I froze, remembering Josh’s little rant the first night we’d all hung out. “Pussy Hunter? That’s cute.” Then my face fell. “Wait. Have you used it? I mean . . . since I’ve been here with you? Have you got off using this?” I waved it in front of her face.
Her lips thinned to a line.
“You have! When?”
She looked away.
“When?” I repeated.
She shrugged. “I dunno. One night you were walking around shirtless, and then you went out for a run, and I . . .”
My eyes narrowed. “You used it when I went for a run?”
She laughed. “Babe, I was thinking of you the entire time.”
“Cute,” I said, before examining it further. “How does this thing even work?”
“No!” she squealed, lunging for it.
I pulled back and held it above my head and out of her reach.
“Blake, I’m serious. Stop!”
Then I found the dial at the bottom . . . and I turned it. The power of it scared the shit out of me. It shot out of my hands and into the air. We both watched as it landed in the bathroom sink. The buzzing and rattling against the porcelain was loud enough to echo off the walls in the small room.
“Holy shit!” I said, shocked by its intensity. We both walked to the sink and looked down at it.
“Aww . . . poor Pussy Hunter,” she joked, before breaking out in a fit of laughter.