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“She’s still mad,” Memphis murmurs. “I don’t think she’s mad at all. I think she’s hurt. She wouldn’t even look at me.” “Shit. I think that’s worse,” he admits. I think he’s right.
“Stop!” Waylynn freezes for half a second, and then she does something she told me she never does—she actually runs.
“But nothing, Waylynn. I’m trying to let you get comfortable so I know I’m not forcing you to do something you don’t want, but I need you to understand. You’re already ours, whether you get that or not.”
“You can’t have both. I won’t be in that class and be…around you guys. If I decide to…let you be around.” Her brows furrow deeply. She’s fucking adorable, acting like she has a choice.
“Yes, you do, and that’s all it takes for you to crack Memphis’ composed exterior. But don’t kid yourself, he loves it every single time. Remember that if you ever want something,” the traitor divulges while kissing the side of her neck tenderly. He’s right about that too—one look, and I would probably give her anything she asked for, unless it would keep her away from me.
“Good fucking girl,” Memphis rumbles before crashing his mouth down onto mine.
“You know how much I hate being left out.” Bates turns his attention to Memphis. “My only question is, am I too late?”
My lips dip down to the top of her head, and I realize Bates was right—I do love her.
“Unless you don’t want me touching you and making you come, then take off your clothes and sit back on the fucking bed, now. I don’t give a shit what time it is.”
Her back is hovering off the bed in a beautiful arch as she cups her tits, my name on her lips and her taste on my tongue.
My heart is thundering in my chest, and the words I love you are burning my tongue with the urge to tell her.
It’s like Memphis knows we were scheming the second he walks into the quiet kitchen. After closing the door, he sets his bag on the counter while watching Waylynn. With slow, measured movements, he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls them up his arms without speaking. As soon as he’s done, she blurts out, “I forgot to lock the door.”
“Waylynn, I love you, and you are perfect the way you are,” I say, speaking the words I’ve thought before but couldn’t voice. I don’t want her to worry I’m going to leave her or that she isn’t good enough. I need her to understand just how important she is.
