Tempted by my Ex-Husband by Piper Rayne

Author:Piper Rayne [Rayne, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piper Rayne, Inc.

Chapter Twenty

Dean’s large hands run along my sweaty back, urging me forward. I fall onto his chest willingly. He rises from the chair, my legs barely able to stay wrapped around him.

“I should get back to work,” I say, and he stops abruptly in the middle of the hallway. I can’t look at him, so I focus on the blank white walls.

“Don’t even try it.” He starts moving again and we pass by a bedroom door before we walk through the door at the end of the hall.

A king-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a plain headboard. Everything inside is either gray, black or steel. Typical bachelor pad. He deposits me on my feet and heads toward what I assume is the bathroom.

My gaze sweeps over the surroundings, taking in more details. Another dull room with no life to it. Not even a clock next to the bed. Other than the view of the sun playing peek-a-boo between the surrounding high-rises, it feels cold and the complete opposite of how I usually feel when I’m with Dean.

The toilet flushes and a chill wraps around my body.

“Nap time.” He goes to what I assume is his side of the bed. We weren’t together long enough to each have a side of our own. It went from the two of us in the middle, to one of us on the couch.

“It’s like four o’clock,” I joke, starting to feel slightly exposed and more than a little vulnerable.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks, laying the comforter and sheets out farther.

“No.”

“Then let’s take a nap and then we can order in food.”

“Dean, I have a life.”

He stares at me a moment, as though for the first time he’s at a loss for words. Then he breaks the distance, his hand already prepped in position to cup my cheek when he steps into me. My stomach flutters and my tough girl act crumbles.

“Tonight, let me be your life.” He presses his lips to my forehead, his hand gliding down my arm until my hand lands in his.

He doesn’t pull or yank me toward the bed, he takes one step at a time, leaving enough slack between us in case I don’t follow. Which means he knows we’re still not close to where we’ve been.

“Half an hour,” I say begrudgingly.

He eyes me, nods, though the smirk on his face says he doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either.

Waiting at the edge of the bed, I crawl in first, suddenly exhausted from the hottest sex I’ve had in half a decade.

“Half hour and then I’ll replenish you.” He pulls me into him, his arms secure around me, his lips sprinkling kisses on my forehead and temple. Our legs are in a tangled mess, and my cheek is pressed against his muscled chest.

“Did you mean what you said?” His voice is soft and insecure, sounding nothing like the man who just withheld my orgasm until I told him what he wanted to hear.

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