Jackson locks up The Library and we head back to Altitude. He’s not wrong about telling Savannah—I know it—but I just want a few more days where it’s not complicated. The bar is in full swing, and I’m ready to roll my sleeves up only to remember that Katie’s acting head bartender tonight. This place is soon going to be hers. She nods at me when I come in, pouring five drinks at once before an adoring crowd. She smiles at me and says something to a man sitting in front of her at the bar that makes him laugh. Good to know that this bar is in good hands.
I pull out my phone and check for any calls or texts. Shutting the door to my stairs, I slowly climb them, hoping to find anything on my phone from Savy. Last night may have been royally screwed, but it’s the longest we’ve gone without talking.
Nothing.
I stare at the phone and my finger hovers over the call button. What if she still wants to talk about last night? I can’t explain Morgan Dockson to her. I shove my door open and toss aside my phone, content that tonight I’m going home alone.
Because if it’s not Savy, I don’t want to be around people.
“Well, about time you showed up,” Savannah says.
My head jerks up. Savannah’s laid out on my bed, propped up on one arm naked as the day she was born. Jackson’s words scream one last time through my head. I should tell her—Savannah crooks a finger at me—but not right now.
“I do believe, counselor, that this is called breaking and entering.” I pull my t-shirt over my head as I walk to the bed. Savannah crawls up to the edge of the bed getting closer to me, her fingers tracing the tattoo that covers my shoulder.
“Not if you have a key.” She kisses my chest and I know I can’t tell her. Not tonight. Let’s have just one more night. Tomorrow. Maybe.
Yeah, tomorrow we’ll talk about my family.
I help her with my jeans. Her fingers trail over my cock. If I wasn’t hard at the sight of her naked, I am now.
“Savannah—“
“Uh, uh, uh,” she says, stroking me again. “Don’t make me get the handcuffs,” she says. Savannah leans down and licks the bead of pre-cum off the tip. Any coherent thought flies out of my head.
Her tongue runs up the length of me before she wraps her lips around my head. There is nothing more important in the world than what her tongue is doing to my dick. And then she plays with my balls, and I about lose it.
Fisting her curls, I try to pull her up. It’s my time to enjoy her. She scrapes her teeth along the side of my dick, and I jerk.
“Don’t tell me you can’t handle it a little rough,” she says, coming up for air.
“Sav—” but the words get lost when she descends on my cock again. She’s as terrible as I am, working me to the edge and backing off just as easily before driving me back up the wall once more.
Savannah finally has pity on me, and I come harder than I ever have before. She swallows all of my cum and sits back, licking her lips.
“Why, Mr. Gardner. You can behave.” She smiles up at me, and I can already feel myself getting hard again. I want her more now than I ever have before.
She lays back on my bed and I slip between her legs, sliding into her. We can forget last night, because tonight is better. She moans, and I can’t think about trying to explain myself or my family to her.
This is a new start.
It’s all I can think about when I fall asleep curled up around her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Savannah
This was not part of the plan. It’s the first thought I have when I wake up the next morning spooned against Cash, his hand spread across my hips, anchoring me to him. I could get used to this, I think, and allow myself to sink back into his warmth. He nuzzles closer to me in his sleep, the stubble on his chin tickling my cheek. This has to be one of the best ways to wake up. I wouldn’t mind doing this every day.
The thought is a metaphorical ice bucket.
That was the whole point of the plan. It had been simple, talk about what we were, clothes on. Clothes on wasn’t an option Cash Gardner liked very much. Then I let myself into the room, and that plan went out the window. I was right, he was completely up for sex. I just hope he’s as willing to talk about what’s next for us. We have crazy sex, but can we have more? That’s the question we always back away from like it’s a thief holding us hostage. We’re stuck somewhere between friends and lovers.