Page 85 of Trick Shot


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She sees me and her whole body goes still for a second.

Shit. Here it comes. The regret. The panic. The we shouldn’t have done that speech.

But then she blinks again, lets her eyes drag over my face… and gives me the softest fucking smile I’ve ever seen.

“Well, well,” I murmur, voice coming out sleepy. “Look who survived the night.”

“Jace.” She snorts, rolls onto her back, and covers her face with her hands.

“What? You didn’t think you’d wake up next to me?” I prop myself up on my elbow, letting the sheet slip down just enough to be a dick about it.

“You’re unbearable.” She groans into her palms.

“That’s not what you were saying when I had you around my cock.” I grin.

She throws her pillow at my face with a smile. I catch it midair, toss it back, and lean in.

“Are you okay?” I murmur, dropping the teasing.

Her eyes meet mine, searching. Then she nods.

“Yes,” she says softly. “I’m okay.” Her cheeks are flushed, her curls are a mess, and her lips are swollen.

And I’m fighting every urge to fuck her again like my life depends on it.

“Just okay?” I raise a brow. “Damn. I was aiming for phenomenal.”

She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch. She hums, stretching again, this time with her arms over her head. She’s doing it to kill me.

“You hungry?” I ask, because if I don’t change the subject, I’m going to flip her over and take her again.

“Starving.”

“You and me both.” I lean down, brush my mouth against her ear.

A knock at the door startles us both.

“Mel?” a familiar voice calls.

Fuck.

Dom.

Melody’s entire body snaps to attention like a deer caught mid-sin. Her eyes go wide, pink blooming across her cheeks like a garden of guilt.

“Shit.” She bolts upright, clutching the sheet to her like we’re in a soap opera.

“Get down!” she whisper-hisses.

“What?” I laugh.

“Hide! I’m serious!”

“You want me to… what, roll under the bed like a side piece?” I try to suppress the laughter crawling up my throat.

She scrambles out of bed, panicking as the knock sounds again.

“Mel? You up?” Dom calls, voice casual. “Breakfast’s downstairs.”