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I almost stop to see if I can hear them speak again to see if maybe I was imagining how much they sounded like two of the voices I’ve always heard, but I’m too afraid,
“What’s my name and phone number?” “Oswald Gravlin, 734-344-2100,” she replies without missing a beat. “So you don’t have a memory issue, he just wasn’t worth remembering.” Oz smiles at her, and she looks down, then tucks a piece of dark hair behind her ear when it falls in her face. She’s shy and sweet as fuck.
My dick twitches just like it did when she called me Mr. Gravlin. Oh hell.
“My name is Memphis to you unless…unless we’re in class.” I manage not to say unless I’m inside you, which was what I really wanted to tell her.
God damn, her words land right beneath my belt buckle.
“Why are you calling me anyway? I can tell you like her.” “You do too,” I explain. “Yeah,” he admits easily.
“I want to get to know her. I’ve got to go, she’s pulling in,” Oz says in a rush. The line goes dead just as Waylynn makes the tight turn into her driveway. “I want to do a lot more than get to know her,” I mumble under my breath after ditching the phone on the seat.
“Waylynn.” Memphis takes a step closer to me and tips my chin up. “Eyes on me,”
Fuck, she feels good. I wish we were at home, I want to touch every inch of her.
Oswald does this low, throaty kind of chuckle, and the hair on my arms stands up. “Maybe next time, baby.”
He nips my bottom lip softly with his teeth, and I make a small, surprised sound.
Fucking idiots, whispers through my mind just as Oswald says in the same voice,
“Did that bother you?” I ask while she’s still staring into my eyes. “No,” she whispers. “Then why are you upset?” My thumb strokes the side of her jaw, and she leans into my touch just enough that I feel pressure against my fingers.
“Good girl,” he rumbles, and she inhales sharply.
“Do you need anything?” “For tonight, no.” “For tonight, tomorrow, anytime,” Memphis clarifies.
“Proof he’s not as dumb as he seems,” Memphis drones. “Smack his hand.”
“He’s trained to never let go of what’s important.”
“Eyes on me,” he demands roughly,
Memphis must have run his hand over his mouth and chin three times before he could muster up a response.
“Because she’s not skinny?” Bates whispers. “I guess, but they are just fucking jealous. She’s beautiful.” “Stunning,” Bates replies quickly, reaffirming my thoughts.
I feel a tug as Memphis pulls me back and places his lips over my ear to mumble, “He’s not talking about the drink, he wants us to share you.”
He wants us to share you.
“I don’t do relationships, never have, but I would lock you down with us in a heartbeat. I’m scared of the things I want from you, but I want them anyway. I can’t explain it, and I don’t even feel the need to question it because I know it’s right.”
“Whatever makes you happy.” “She does,” is his simple reply.
