Wardrobe Malfunction(32)

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. No one’s ever looked after me like this before.”

Her eyes open, locking on to mine. I feel something flicker in my chest.

“Then, you’ve been spending time with the wrong kind of men,” I tell her, surprised at the irritation I feel at the thought of her being with other men.

I’ve never been the jealous type. But then finding out that your best friend has been fucking your girlfriend will change that in a man.

I press a kiss to her lips and then pull back. Taking the cloth to the bathroom, I toss it in the sink.

I go back to the bedroom and climb on the bed, lying on my side next to her.

She turns to face me. I hook my hand under her leg, lifting it over my hip, and I pull her closer.

Then, I reach over and grab the blanket, covering us both.

“You staying?” she asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked first.”

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”

“I only want you to stay if you want to stay.”

I smile, unable not to.

Battle of the wills. Neither of us wants to be the one to admit the truth. That she wants me to stay. And that I want to stay with her.

I know this is how it’s always going to be with Charly and me. And I like it. I like the challenge she gives me.

But, right now, I want to make her happy more than I want to spar with her.

I brush the tip of my nose over hers. “I want to stay here with you.”

She smiles, and I feel it right in the center of my chest.

“Good, because I want you to stay.” She presses her hand to my stomach, her fingers crawling up to my chest. “I can’t believe we’re here, in bed, together,” she says softly.

“Because I’m so good-looking and rich and famous? And have a big cock? Don’t forget my big cock.” I’m teasing, but I keep my expression straight.

She stares at me. “You’re being an ass, West.”

“According to Cosmo, I have a hot one. The Hottest Ass of 2016.”

“Ugh! Just when I think you’re actually a nice guy, you—”

She tries to get up, but I roll over onto her, pinning her down with my body.

“I’m playing with you. Jeez, I’m not that fucking arrogant.”

She stares up at me, her gorgeous blueberry eyes blinking up at me. “You were kidding?”

I cock my brow. “Mmhmm. I do that sometimes.”

“Sorry.” Her cheeks turn pink. “I’m probably just still feeling a little sensitive after this afternoon.”

“Did I say I was sorry enough for that? Because I am.” Knowing I must be crushing her, I support my weight on my arms, and my hands frame her face. “So, this should show you how sorry I am. I’m about to tell you something completely fucking embarrassing.”

“Okay…”

“Well, the reason I snapped at you earlier—and, again, it wasn’t your fault, just my fucked up brain taking it out on the one person I shouldn’t have—well, it was because I’d gotten a stiffy while filming.”

Her eyes dim. “Yeah, I spotted that.”

“I gathered…Boner,” I remind her of what she called me back in the warehouse.

She blushes.

“Thing is…my erection…it was because of you.”

“Me?” She looks surprised.

“Of course it was because of you. You’ve been driving me crazy these last few days. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all the ways I wanted to fuck you. When I was doing the scene with Natasha, I looked up, and there you were, watching. I was trying to focus on what I was doing in the scene, but I couldn’t get you out of my head. I just kept thinking about fucking you, and…I got a hard-on.”

She giggles, her hands sliding down my back. “So, you got an erection over me while simulating sex with another woman?”

“Yep. Messed up, right?” I screw my face up.

“Kinda. But, oddly, it’s sweet. In a messed up way.”

She grins up at me, and warmth spreads across my chest.

Also, my dick perks back up, ready for round two of fun, which reminds me…

“Pins…”

“Do you have to call me that?”

I frown. “Do you really hate it that much?”

I knew it bugged her, but I thought she actually liked it.

I fucking love the nickname. It’s cute. It’s her.

It’s ours. It’s my name for her.

I know it’s stupid, but it’s the caveman in me that wants to keep on calling her it.

Her eyes soften on me. “No, I don’t hate it.” She presses her hand to my face, her thumb brushing over my lips. “You can keep calling me it.”

“Thanks.” I smile.