Prevail (Triumph Book 3) by McGran S.J

Author:McGran, S.J. [McGran, S.J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Riley

God, I feel like shit. My mouth tastes like, ugh, I don’t even know, but it tastes disgusting. My eyes burn as I try to blink them open. My back hurts from all the dry heaving I did last night. My head hurts from lack of sleep. Everything fucking hurts.

Unwilling to wake up I curl into a ball and cocoon myself in the thick black blanket I’ve been using all night. Digging my face into the pillow I breathe in deeply through my nose. Rico’s musky, masculine scent assaults my senses.

Damn, that’s a good smell. It’s this intoxicating mix of sawdust, dirt, man, and clean soap. It’s a scent completely unique to Rico and one I intend on savoring while I have the chance.

I’m not even aware of the soft mewl I let out until Rico’s voice carries through the room, “Damn, baby. You’ve gotta stop making that sound around me.”

Snapping my eyes open I roll in the direction his voice came from. He’s standing in the door dressed in jeans and a tight gray t-shirt. His longish hair is still damp from his morning shower. He looks as delicious as his smell.

Ignoring the way my body takes interest in him, ignoring the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks at being caught by him, and ignoring the overall awkwardness of this whole situation I say the only thing I possibly can right now, “Hey.” I want to groan and hide under the covers at my lameness.

Rico only chuckles lightly as he moves across the room, dropping to the edge of the bed he invades my space in a way only he can—a way that makes it known that he’s there, but in a way that is comforting and unassuming at the same time.

“We have to leave in about an hour if you wanted to get up and get showered.” When I only nod he reaches his hand out to rub a gentle path down my bare arm. The change from playful to serious happens instantly. “How you holding up today, Riley?”

“I’m okay,” I manage to rasp out through my sore throat. “Thanks for everything, Rico.”

“Sure thing, baby.” He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. I’m watching him so closely I see the second he decides to let whatever it is go—his eyes go from dark and stormy, to a soft chocolate brown. With a slap on my ass, he pushes off the bed. “Get up and get ready, I’ll cook us breakfast.”

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