Page 29 of Botched
Her fake nails dig into my thighs, pulling me closer. Blondie slows down. She’s getting lazy, and I don’t blame her. It’s not like I’m giving her much. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, thrusting harder into her relaxed throat. “Suck,” I hiss.
What would Aurora look like with her mouth full of my cock? Would she still glare at me? Or would she look at me with fondness? Would she enjoy it or would she do it because I want her to? Of course not; that’s not who my Roo is. She would never put her enjoyment second. Especially not for me.
My balls tighten. I’m so goddamn close. I’ll blow my load, give her some attention and then I’ll bend Blondie over the sink, fuck into her cunt, and I won’t think about red hair and green eyes. I won’t wonder about all the details of that tattoo along her side.
My phone buzzes, and normally I wouldn’t give a damn, but something in my gut is telling me to check it. Without pulling my cock out of her mouth, I grab my phone from the pocket of my slacks. She doesn’t seem fazed, probably thinks I’m taking a picture or a video or something.
Like I’m some weirdo who keeps trophies of all the girls he fucks in club bathrooms.
There’s a text from Aurora on my screen. Opening it immediately, I read it twice to make sure I’m not imagining it.
Are you busy? Can you come to my room? It’s okay if you can’t. I need someone right now.
Chapter Twenty-One
AURORA
Another crash of thunder causes the hotel to shake and sends my heart lurching in my chest. I hate it. I hate it so damn much. There’s nothing cute about a grown woman who has panic attacks over storms. It’s not fun. It’s not quirky. It makes me feel like a kid who never grew up. It’s not the storms that I’m scared of. It’s the memories of what happened on a night just like this. Rain batters the window of my hotel room, and I pull the paper-thin blanket tighter around me as if that’s going to protect me from my thoughts.
When there’s a knock on the door, I get up and go to it. After peeking through the peephole to check that it’s not some monster prowling in the night, I open the door.
Maybe it’s worse.
Theo stands there, one hand in his pocket. His brown eyes are trained on me, like usual, except they look more intense. “What do you need?”
If I look too deeply into it, I’d probably think about how frazzled he looks right now, as if he was concerned over my text. Theo wasn’t my first choice. I texted Jules but she was busy. Probablywith Hext. Not touching that right now. I don’t think I’m close enough to Clara to ask her to come sit with me through a storm, and I don’t talk to anyone else. Theo was the only other option.
I swallow. “I don’t like storms.” Understatement of the year. Ihatethem.
He doesn’t laugh. I was thoroughly convinced that Theo would laugh his ass off once I told him. He gestures for me to step aside as he enters my hotel room. The door closes behind him and he’s quiet as he slips off his shoes. “What do you need me to do?”
“Can you sit with me?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
It’s tempting to make a joke about how this is the first time we’ve spent more than a few seconds together without Theo making it sexual, but I don’t want to ruin what we have going on. I climb onto one side of the queen bed, sitting with my back against the pillows. He sits on the other, almost in the same position.
Silence washes over us. I worry with a loose thread on the sheet before breaking it off. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your night.”
“I wasn’t doing anything—or anyone—important,” Theo scoffs. He’s quiet before adding, “I was worried you were hurt or something.”
“Nope. I’m okay.”
Sort of a lie. I’m not okay right now. I’m keeping my shit together because that’s what I have to do. A crack of lightning strikes something in the distance, making another loudboomring out as if something’s exploding. I jump, curling into myself.
And then Theo’s arm comes around me. One muscular arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me across the bed and to his chest. I don’t flinch and pull away. Presented with this situation before tonight, I definitely would’ve pulled away.
Comfort settles over me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, finding comfort in Theo. I tell myself it’s because he’s a warm body in the middle of a storm. My eyes close and I lean against his broadchest, feeling the hardness of his muscles underneath his shirt. His callused fingertips lightly run over my arm.
We’re co-workers who are working closely together. Being comfortable around him is a good thing. That’s all this is.
“What would you do if you weren’t a wrestler?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts. Thankfully.
“Huh?”
“I’m trying to distract you from the storm. Get you talking. What would you do if you weren’t wrestling?”
I want to say that I don’t have a backup plan. Wrestling is the end all, be all for me. I never wanted anything else. But I also knew I had to have something in the back of my mind, just in case. Wasn’t like I could do nothing for the rest of my life if I didn’t make my dreams come true.