One and Only by Jenny Holiday

Author:Jenny Holiday
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2018-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

SUNDAY—SIX DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

Cameron.”

There was a voice penetrating Cam’s consciousness.

And someone tapping his shoulder.

His first impulse was to pull a pillow over his head and ignore it, because he was so exhausted. He actually thought for a minute that he was back in Iraq, being roused at who knew what ungodly hour for who knew what drill or exercise.

“Don’t wake up all the way. Stay asleep,” said the voice, and it all came flooding back.

He reached for her. They’d moved to the queen-size bed in her bedroom after round two last night—after he’d eaten her out and she’d jacked him off in her office. But the bed beside him was empty, the sheets cool.

Christ, what a night. Who knew Muddy Jane had it in her? He smiled. Finally, he’d ticked the number one item off his return-to-civilian-life list. And he was going to need a new name for her. Wicked Jane, maybe?

“Sleep in,” said the voice. She was nearby. She must be in the bathroom now. He was only too happy to comply, so he scooted over to make room for her when she came back. They would need their strength for later.

Please let there be a later.

Probably they’d have to have the “I’m not your boyfriend” conversation again, to assuage his guilt, but maybe not even. His mind roamed back over the conversations he’d had with Jane, last night and earlier, about her vibrators and her waste-of-space ex. It seemed entirely possible that she was using him as an experiment. He let his eyes slip closed. Sleep was so close. He wanted to wait until she was back in his arms, but it was taking all his strength not to succumb.

“Hey.” The voice was louder now. He turned toward it.

She was standing next to the bed, towering over him.

No, correction: Xena: Warrior Princess, was towering over him.

His breath hitched. His dick hitched. Everything hitched. Because she was stunning. The knee-high boots—flat, he noted with amusement; she’d picked the right character to cosplay—the leather skirt, the armor, the black wig, the arm bands. All of it. Maybe the name he was looking for was Warrior Jane.

“I happen to know that Jay’s condo is going to be transformed into a dance studio today,” she whispered. “Elise decided to make Jay and all of the wedding party she could manage to get a hold of—the ones who weren’t previously committed to Comicon, mind you—to practice some kind of choreographed recessional she’s become obsessed with. So I suggest you hide out here today. I’m leaving a spare house key on the kitchen table. If you go, lock up and then shove it through the mail slot. But stick around as long as you like. If you’re still here when I’m back, maybe we can grab dinner.”

He tried to answer, but he was still struck dumb by the sight of her.

Also, he had no fucking idea what to say. He wanted to have dinner with Jane tonight. Like, seriously wanted it. The prospect of watching Jane eat food was now all he was going to think about for the rest of the day.

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