A Beautiful Distraction(8)

“Hey,” he said gently.

They didn’t even stir.

“Hey, I’ve got to get ready for work,” he tried again, only this time he let his voice carry a little louder.

They still didn’t budge.

With a heavy sigh he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Now that’s a view to wake up to,” a soft, sleep-induced voice said from behind him.

Turning around, he was greeted with a smile that was equal parts shy and coquettish. Ah, yes, Trish’s blonde from the bar. Damn, he’d been wrong about this one. Her smile was sweet, and the easy blush that spread across her cheeks made her round eyes soften even more. But that force field of innocence he’d thought he’d been privy to turned out to be one hell of an illusion. This woman didn’t delineate innocence in any shape or form. And she definitely didn’t lack in experience or skill.

Her ravenous eyes skimmed across his exposed body and honed in on his morning hard-on. “Why don’t you climb back in bed and let me take care of that for you?”

The idea appealed to him in more ways than one. This chick was hot, willing, and already naked in his bed. But she’d served her purpose to him and he wasn’t interested in round two. And yes, he realized that made him a complete asshole. Not that he would actually tell her that, though.

Pleasing a woman was beyond gratifying for him. He loved to make a woman scream out his name by the mere power of his tongue between her thighs. Goddamn, he loved to feel a woman’s body squirm beneath him by the pressure of his fingertips, the blissful enjoyment of feeling the softness of a woman quivering as his body pressed into her.

But it hadn’t been that way for him in a while. Not since Bridgette. Now when he was with a woman she was just someone to fuck in an attempt to fulfill that one need that his body was craving. And it never worked. It would take the edge off, but fucking just to fuck was never completely satisfying. Sure, he’d get off, and he made sure to get whatever woman, or women, under him to come too, in the hopes of preventing that asshole feeling from returning, but it never worked that way. He still felt like the prick he knew he was.

“Come on,” she coaxed soothingly, and the woman next to her stirred awake. “Don’t get shy on me now.” She glanced at her friend, who was now sitting up beside her, and offered her a roguish smile. “Morning, Amber,” she hummed. Amber—that’s right.

Amber’s hand snaked out from under the sheet and found its way to the blonde’s tit, all the while directing her “fuck me” eyes at Rafe. They knew what the hell they were doing. And it worked.

Rafe grinned and walked to the edge of the bed. He wasn’t going to walk away from watching them please each other.

The blonde reached out and wrapped her fingers around his erection and his hips instinctively rocked forward and he groaned.

“You like that?” she asked, readjusting herself onto her knees and lifting her mouth to reach him. He didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response—that would require more effort than he was up for right then. Instead he just looked at Amber. “Touch her,” he instructed, and the delighted look that fanned her face told him she was more than grateful to be included.

He enjoyed both views the women were giving him until he felt the need to roll his eyes to the back of his head. “You better stop or I’m going to come in your mouth,” he warned with a deep growl.

A breathy giggle caused his eyes to open. “She won’t stop,” Amber informed him, grinning. And she was right. The blonde’s grip only tightened and her mouth moved more hurriedly, pulling him in deep.

Then he came.

His release hit him hard, but it didn’t linger or last and it lacked the delicious wave of aftershocks that accompanied a great orgasm.

He hadn’t felt aftershocks since he’d severed the link between his heart and his sex drive.

Rafe pulled himself from the blonde’s mouth and ran his fingers through her hair. “Thanks,” he praised as warmly as he could. “Now, as much as I hate to leave you ladies alone in my bed,” he said, feigning disappointment, “I need to get in the shower and get ready for work.”

They both sighed and whined in frustration, pouting, and it annoyed the hell out of him. “You two finish without me,” he retorted, hoping to shut them up as he headed for his bathroom. Another round of whining met his ears and caused him to cringe inwardly until the noise was muffled through the closed bathroom door.

He turned the water to hot, the spray pelting the tile wall as he waited for it to heat up. Latching onto the sink, Rafe lowered his head between his shoulders and groaned as the first wave of a hangover slinked through his head, thrashing him with a dull, steady ache behind his eyes.