Page 51 of Fall For Me
Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment because as much as I know this is a terrible idea, I follow him into his room anyway. He turns back the duvet, and I climb into his bed, lying on my side, facing him, and putting as much distance as I can muster between us without falling off the bed. Sean’s arms reach out, pulling me to him until we’re chest to chest; his scent blanketing around me. Fighting this is hard. I miss him. He’s been with me all evening, he’s lying beside me right now, and yet, I miss him so much.
Snuggling into his chest, I allow the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull me to sleep while so many questions play on my mind.
If this isn’t where I’m supposed to be, why does here feel like it’s exactly where I belong?
Sixteen
Sean
Hannah grinds her perfectly round ass against my dick and my eyes fly open. My fucking God; I’m not gonna survive this shit. Digging my fingertips into her hip, I hold her still against me and growl in her ear, “Quit grinding your ass against my dick unless you want me to give it to you.”
Does she stop? Fuck no. She wiggles against me again.
“Hannah,” I warn.
“Mmm.”
“Please stop. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here, mi amor.”
“Sorry,” she rasps, her voice thick with sleep as she shifts to put a little space between us. “What time is it?”
The sheets rustle as I turn to look at my phone. “Eleven.”
“Eleven?!” She jerks up in bed. “Damn it! I forgot to set my alarm.”
My arm wraps around her, and I pull her back down, burying my nose into her neck. “It’s Saturday. Fifteen more minutes.”
“I have to take Carter and River lunch,” she protests, trying to get up, but I squeeze her tighter.
“And we will.”
“I don’t know when taking them lunch became a joint effort.”
“Everything became a joint effort the second you let me put my dick inside you again. Now, be a good fucking girl and let me hold you for a few more minutes.”
I’m not the cuddling type. Maybe it’s the fear of never having her like this again, or maybe I’ve become a sappy fucking bastard, but having her in my arms makes me want to stay right here in this moment and never leave this bed. She traces the tattoos on my forearm, but then her hand stills and falls away as if she realizes what she’s doing. Well, fuck, that was short lived; I guess old habits die hard.
Silence settles back over us, and I feel myself drift back to sleep.
“What the fucking fuck, Sean!?” My eyes fly open at the shrill of Hannah’s screaming voice.
Uh-oh. She’s really mad.
She sits up, looking at her phone with the most comical expression, and I have to bury my face into my pillow, so she won’t see me laughing. After she fell asleep last night, I tossed her clothes in the dryer. What did I do after that? Well, a social media notification popped up on her phone and lit up the room. The fucker caught my attention . . . umm . . . I may or may not have had a grand idea to fuck with her shit. And by fuck with her shit, I mean, I changed her social media status to in a relationship . . . with me of course.
“I see your shoulders shaking, Sean! This isn’t fucking funny! How the hell did you get into my phone? I changed my password.”
“My dad was in the CIA. He taught me a few things,” I say, peeking up at her.
Her brows pinch together in confusion as she tilts her head to the side. “Really?”
“No.” I bark out another laugh and catch the pillow she sends flying at my face.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m changing my relationship status back to single.”
