That One Night: A Pucking Around Prequel Novella by Emily Rath

Author:Emily Rath [Rath, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily Rath Books
Published: 2023-01-21T13:00:00+00:00

8

After Mystery Boy graciously gifts me two of the best orgasms of my life, we take turns in the bathroom getting cleaned up. While he’s in there, I order down to the restaurant for room service. It’s almost dinner time, and I’m starving. But there’s no way I’m leaving this room. It feels like the moment I do, the magic will break.

I slip on my white hotel robe, pulling my hair up into a messy topknot. When I took my turn in the bathroom, I did the bare minimum to wipe the makeup off my face and remove my contacts. My vision isn’t great, but its good enough to get by without bothering with my glasses. As long as he doesn’t ask me to drive him anywhere tonight, I’ll be good.

He comes out of the bathroom naked, totally at ease in his own skin. Sauntering across the suite, he snatches up his discarded briefs and tugs them on, which does the bare minimum to conceal the perfect roundness of his ass. Lord have mercy, how many squats does it take to get glutes that juicy? All the ladies need to know.

I stifle a grin, busying myself with looking for the TV remote.

He joins me on the sofa, sinking down with a soft groan. He sits right next to me, not caring that there’s a whole other end. He grabs my legs, flipping me until I’m partially in his lap. His calloused thumb rubs little circles on my ankle as he visibly relaxes. He just needs to be touching me. I understand the sentiment; I’m feeling the same way about him.

“I ordered down for some room service. Hope you don’t mind steak.”

He smiles, his head tipped back against the back of the sofa, eyes closed. “Sounds perfect.”

I flip the channel to SportsCenter. Below the TV, the electric fire burns. I took the time to turn on a few lamps too. This end of the suite is now bathed in golden light, while the far end near the windows is dark and stormy. The shadows of the rain dance across the rumpled white bedspread. I love the contrast of feeling warm and bright in his arms while a cold, grey storm rages all around us.

I feel his eyes on me and flash him a soft smile.

He’s casually rubbing my foot, working his thumbs in circles over my arch. “Tell me something else.” He reaches over with one hand, flicking at my robe. The “V” opens a bit more, and he brushes his finger down my chest tattoo. “Tell me about this. What does it mean?”

I huff a laugh, stretching out a bit. “It means I was fifteen and high on shrooms at a music festival and a guy named Hector had a tattoo gun.”

He stills, glancing my way with a raised brow. “Fifteen, huh?”

I shrug. “I had a rather unorthodox upbringing.”

I don’t mention that the festival was Coachella or that my dad’s band was headlining…or that the shrooms were stolen from my dad’s personal stash.

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