Give Me Yesterday by Elle Christensen & K. Webster

Author:Elle Christensen & K. Webster [Christensen, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: novel
Publisher: K. Webster and Elle Christensen
Published: 2015-09-22T18:30:00+00:00

Fucking hotel liquor. Ugh. And what the hell is that noise? I try to shift my position and find I’m weighed down by something large and hot. I wiggle again and the something groans, “Baby, quit squirming.” I freeze.

Chase is practically wrapped around me, snuggled up and plastered to my side. A leg thrown over both of mine, his face buried in my neck, and an arm stretched over my chest, his hand resting firmly on my breast. I don’t know how to catch my breath, and seriously? What is that damn noise?

“Chase.”

“Shhhh. Dr. Monroe is sleeping.”

I huff, “Chase, what is making that noise?”

“You, baby. Now shut it. I’m exceptionally comfy.” He emphasizes his statement with a squeeze to the boob in his palm. I try desperately to ignore the tingles spreading throughout my chest.

I manage to get my focus and clear away some of the cobwebs in my head. I realize I’m hearing “Blue Eyes” by Carey Brothers. “Chase, is that your phone?” He pries open an eye lid and glares at me. I don’t know how someone can glare with one eye, but somehow Chase manages it. Admittedly he looks really cute while doing it, too.

“Shit!” Chase’s exclamation startles me and suddenly the heat is gone and I’m mourning its loss. Chase runs to the round table in the corner of the room and snatches up his phone. “Shit! Up, babe. Get your sexy little ass in the shower.” His finger swipes the screen, then plucks up my phone and does the same. “Fuck. There went your parents’ first impression of me. You have four missed calls and two texts.” He glances back and sees I haven’t moved, since I’m too busy ogling his mostly naked body, the muscles, his smattering of chest hair, and the beautiful tattoo over his heart, which I haven’t had the nerve to ask about. He smirks and I roll my eyes and flip him off as I climb out of bed.

I yawn and wander toward my suitcase. Chase is frantically digging through his own, then pops up with clothes and spies me still in a funk. He hurries over and smacks my ass. “Get a move on, Tori. It’s almost noon.”

His words pierce my hungover fog. “What?” I screech and start running around grabbing anything and everything, before dashing to the bathroom. “What the fuck, Chase? We missed breakfast and the wedding starts in two hours!”

“We slept through the alarm,” he says from right behind me as if it’s no big deal. Startled, I spin around to see him standing just beyond the door jam, and both arms up, leaning on either side of the frame. “You’ve got to get a move on.” He continues to stand there and stare. The punk. “You know, it would be much more efficient to share the shower. Very practical.”

“You make a good point.” I grab the hem of my cami and slowly start to drag it up my stomach, watching his eyes become round as saucers and his mouth open slightly.

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