Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Give me a second.” He pats my butt and rolls away. I lift myself off his arm so he can stand.
“Where you going?” Drowsiness slurs my words.
“Be right back.” His fingers tickle the backs of my legs as he rounds the bed.
I close my eyes and drift on a cloud of bliss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Griff
In the bathroom, I quickly wash the bit of blood from my fingers. It doesn’t bother me, but I don’t want Molly to freak out if she sees it. All right, maybe it bothers me a little. I feel like a bastard who’s robbed her of her innocence or something. Which is dumb. She was loving every minute of what we did. Another asshole part of me wants to beat on my chest for being her first…everything.
Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a breath.
Grabbing another washcloth, I wet it with warm water and wring it out in the sink.
In the bedroom, Molly’s in the same position I left her. Beautifully naked, facing away from me. My gaze travels up her long, toned legs—one bent at the knee, giving me a glimpse between her thighs. My cock’s harder than a fucking crowbar. It’d be so easy to slip into bed behind her, lift her leg, and slide right inside her tight, wet heat.
But she hasn’t asked me yet. Hasn’t said those magic words.
My gaze lands on a smear of blood on her inner thigh, sobering me out of my lustful longing. I touch the washcloth to her skin, and she murmurs a sleepy sound.
“What’s wrong?” She rolls to her back and stares up at me.
“Nothing.” I quickly clean her up and ball the washcloth in my fist.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The door to our room rattles.
What the fuck?
Like someone’s about to burst in and hold us hostage, Molly grabs the sheet and throws it over her naked body. We both stare in the direction of the door.
“Molly!” A muffled shout comes from the hallway.
“Fuck.” I hurry into the bathroom and toss the washcloth in the sink.
“Molly, please!” Bang! Rattle. Bang!
“Is that Kyla?” Molly whispers from outside the bathroom.
I turn, and she’s dressed in her T-shirt. She thrusts my shorts at me without taking her eyes off the door.
“Thanks.” I grab the shorts and yank them on. “I think so.” My gaze swings from the door to the short hallway leading to the bed. “I’ll answer. Go back to the bedroom.” Who knows what the fuck we’re dealing with?
Her nervous eyes shift to the door and back to me. “Okay.” She leans up and kisses my cheek, then scurries around the corner, out of sight.
I check the small, round viewing hole. The limited one-sixty range shows three girls huddled against the door. Based on hair color, I assume it’s Hayden, Kyla, and Darcy.
I unlock the door and throw it open.
“Oh, thank God,” Kyla wails, stumbling forward and crashing her wet face against my bare chest. I awkwardly catch her and pull her inside.
Hayden’s tear-streaked eyes roam over me without comment. Darcy’s the only one who seems sober and, given the twitch at the corners of her mouth, annoyed by the whole situation.
“What’s wrong?” I tighten an arm around Kyla to keep her upright and step back to give the girls room. “What happened?”
Darcy smirks, rolls her eyes, and turns to close the door behind them.
“Where’s Jenn?” I ask Hayden.
Her mouth flattens into a thin, irritated line. “She ditched us and went home. In my car.”
At least she’s not lost and wandering around the hotel.
Kyla continues sobbing and clinging to me. I twist, awkwardly searching for Molly. Where’d she go?
“What happened?” Molly turns the corner, gasps, and hurries toward us.
She took the time to change into her cute little PJ set and I can’t even admire it. A putrid scent wafts off Kyla. My nose twitches, and I suppress the urge to gag.
I glance down, taking in her wild, matted, wet hair and stained dress.
“What—” Molly gingerly touches Kyla’s shoulder then glares at Hayden. “What happened?”
Kyla wails—a high-pitched keening that stabs my eardrums.
Molly pries Kyla off me and hands me my shirt.
“Did you throw up, Kyla?” Concern heightens Molly’s voice. “Are you okay?”
Christ, is that what’s smeared all over my chest? I push past the girls into the bathroom, grab another towel, and wash myself off without verifying. With all the bodily fluids we’ve thrown around this room tonight, it could be considered a damn crime scene.
The girls are still crowded in the hallway when I return. Molly’s the only one who seems to be trying to calm Kyla.
“Why don’t you help her clean up?” I suggest, gesturing toward the bathroom.
Hayden rolls her eyes and pushes past me, throwing her duffel bag onto the table. “Aw, you got Molly roses?”
“Huh?” I glance at Hayden and nod. Flowers are the last thing on my mind.