I smile. It’s a pleasant soreness, one that reminds me of the massive instrument that inflicted it.
Good God, did you just call it an instrument?
I giggle. I can’t seem to help it. I’m happy. Very happy. At least for the moment.
I should be tired, but I’m not. I feel rejuvenated and ready to face the day.
“Maybe Ginger’s right. Maybe sex is actually good for me,” I mumble into the quiet. The walls absorb the sound and remind me that I have the place all to myself. Marissa is gone for another couple weeks. That alone is reason to celebrate.
Thoughts of her bring me to thoughts of Nash. What if it had been him that visited me last night? I hadn’t been able to see clearly enough in the dark to identify whether the delicious chest above me had a tattoo on it or not. How will I know?
For a moment, I’m lost in memories of the feel of smooth, taut skin beneath my fingertips, of rippling muscles in long arms and broad shoulders, of slim hips clamped between my thighs. Just the thought of that is enough to leave me feeling damp and wanting.
Throwing off the covers, I head to the shower. As I scrub and buff, I search my mind for clues that might hint at which brother gave me such an incredible night. I think they are both perfectly capable of making me feel that way and nothing that happened seemed like something only one would do or say. Especially say, as not many words were used.
I smile at the thought.
Not many words were needed.
Entry isn’t an issue. Cash has my keys, Nash has Marissa’s. Attraction isn’t an issue. Both brothers have made it very clear we have an intensely physical connection. Willingness might be the only area there’s a discrepancy. Cash has made it very clear he’s interested in a physical relationship with me. Nash, on the other hand, is taken and he’s trying to do the right thing.
But then I remember it wasn’t Nash who stopped us on the rooftop. If I hadn’t brought us to a halt, would we have had sex up there, on a chaise lounge where Nash has probably sat with Marissa?
The more I think, the muddier things get and the more questions and concerns I develop. So I put it out of my head. Surely I’ll be able to tell when I see Cash whether or not we had sex.
Surely.
After dressing, I make my way into the kitchen to brew some coffee. I’m surprised when I hear my phone ring from my bedroom. I race to get it.
My stomach flutters when I see Nash’s name on the lighted screen. What does such an early call mean? That he was with me until a little while ago? Or he got a good night’s sleep, which means he wasn’t here?
I slide my finger across the screen to answer it.
“Hello?”
There’s a pause.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I’m actually making coffee.”
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I assumed you’d have your alerts off and I’d get your voicemail. I just wanted to make sure you saw the flowers I left.”
I’m a little deflated. That doesn’t sound like something the guy who just explored my entire naked body with his tongue might say.
“Yes, I saw them when I came in last night.”
“Perfect. I just wanted you to feel free to call me if you need anything while Marissa’s away.”
“Um, I will. Uh, thanks.”
“I’ll let you get back to your coffee then. I’ve got to get to work. Early meetings.”
“Okay. Thanks for the flowers, Nash.”
“It was my pleasure, Olivia.”
I hear a smile in his voice. Don’t I?
Chills remain on my arms long after he hangs up. Just hearing him say my name reminds me of the night before, of that voice moaning my name as he was coming.
Only it obviously didn’t belong to Nash. It belonged to his brother.
I’m not entirely surprised to find out it was Cash. The whole scenario fits his character more than it does Nash’s. Only a bad boy would come, uninvited, into a girl’s house and wake her up to seduce her in her own bedroom.
And only a bad boy would think I wouldn’t mind. I have to smile at that.
He’s got nerve. I’ll give him that.
But he was right. I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t mind twice. And probably wouldn’t have minded a third and fourth time if I hadn’t fallen asleep like a loser. It’s been a while and I forgot how incredibly relaxing great sex is.
I’m just sitting down at the dining room table to do some reading before class when my phone rings again. This time the screen shows Cash’s name, but my reaction is the same. My stomach flutters with excitement.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, gorgeous. You up?”
“Yep,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my voice.
“So, your car is at my buddy’s shop. It’s definitely the alternator.”
“Shit,” I mumble, my early-morning buzz succumbing to the realities of owning a piece of crap car. “Any idea how much something like that’s gonna cost me?”
“For you? Nothing. He owes me a favor.”
“I can’t let you do that, Cash.”
“I suppose you’re going to stop me?” he says derisively.
“I’m being serious. That’s too much. I can’t accept a gift like that.”
“You can and you will. Besides, don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll be paying me back.”
My smile returns and my nerves sing with exhilaration. I can’t wait to hear what he has in mind.
“Is that right?”
“Yep. Starting with an extra shift next week if you can swing it.”
I’m disappointed again. That’s not nearly as sexy as I expected it to be. After last night, surely he knows I’d be more than happy to pay him back in any number of ways and positions. Unless he’s not my late-night visitor after all.
What kind of a floozy doesn’t know who she slept with the night before?
I roll my eyes.
And who uses the word floozy?
One name comes to mind. Tracey, my mother. That’s her word.
Shaking my head, I get back to important things. Like who spent part of last night tickling my ovaries.
As I think about it, the thing that bothers me most is that neither guy is amorous enough this morning for me to be able to accurately determine the culprit. How sad is that?
Ohmigod! Have I lost my touch? Do I suddenly suck in bed?
Cash clearing his throat reminds me he’s awaiting my answer.
“Oh, uh, you know I’ll do whatever I can to pay you back, but it kinda depends on the night. I can’t be out too—”