Rattling on the door stops Skye in her tracks as she looks at me again, amused at what Bayron could have possibly said to me that would make me come back and fuck her to distract her and me.
“What did Bayron want?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Here’s your last chance to get anything you want from me. You want it slow and easy. You want to take control. You want to tie me up. I’ll do anything you want. A one-time chance. What do you want?”
Her grin widens as she leans down and kisses me hard and firm on the lips but doesn’t push her tongue into my mouth like I want her to.
“You’re being bad, trying to distract me, because you don’t want me to do whatever nonsense Bayron wants me to do, but if I miss my flight because of you, you’re going to be in big trouble, mister. So, tell me what Bayron wanted, and then you can get back to fucking me however you want.”
I glare at her, trying to convince her with my eyes that she doesn’t want to know what Bayron said, but it only makes her more adorable. She won’t give in to my glares or charm.
I sigh. “Something about you having a phone call from someone. It was nothing. He said he’d wait out in the hallway for a few minutes until you decided what you wanted to do about it. I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re going to be home in twelve hours, and you can call them back then.”
She nods and leans down, her lips hovering over mine to kiss me again when she stops.
“Who?” she asks suddenly.
I shrug. “Gabe.”
“Oh,” she says, her body freezing as her eyes grow wide.
I raise an eyebrow at her reaction, but I don’t ask the obvious question. Who is Gabe? I want to know. Is he her brother? Father? Child? Her dog? Best friend? Or Lover?
I’d be fine with most of those answers. I don’t care if she has a kid. But I don’t want to know about a current or ex-lover. She’s still mine for the next eight hours until she has to leave for the airport.
She rolls off me and onto her back before she bounces off the edge of the bed and begins putting her clothes back on.
“What are you doing?”
She ignores me and continues to put clothes on.
I jump out of the bed, still only wearing my boxers and now a hard-on that won’t go away anytime soon.
“Skye?” I ask, standing in front of her, not letting her go talk to Bayron until she talks to me first.
She shakes her head, snapping out of whatever spell she has been under the last few seconds that made her forget that I was even here.
“Sorry. I should go speak to Bayron. Just give me five minutes, and then we can get back to what we do best,” she says, smiling. She quickly kisses me on the lips and then slips under my arm and out to the door.
I don’t know what just happened, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. She smiled at me, but it wasn’t genuine. She kissed me, but she kissed me like she was kissing a brother. With nothing behind it.
I consider chasing after her and dragging her back inside to demand she tell me what the hell is going on, but I don’t. That’s not what we are. We are fuck buddies. I don’t get to ask about her life, and she doesn’t get to ask about my life.
I consider jacking off while I wait. It will give me something to keep me distracted, but I’d rather jack off in her. So, I wait. I walk to the kitchenette and pull out leftovers from our meal last night. I start eating them to stop my mind from thinking too hard. I quickly eat the fried chicken, annoyed that she isn’t back. I start pacing, walking all the way to the front door to try to listen to her conversation with Bayron before I walk back to the bedroom. Whatever she is talking to Bayron about, she isn’t angry or upset or frustrated. She seems calm, happy even. That only makes my own frustration grow.
Finally, the door swings open, and a bouncing Skye walks back into the bedroom, but her grin quickly disappears the second she sees me frowning at her.
“Did your conversation go well?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says, swallowing hard.
“And?” I ask, waiting for her to elaborate.
She bites her lip, and I know whatever it is, it’s very bad for me. She only ever bites her lip when she’s nervous or she wants to be fucked. And, right now, I think it’s a little of both.
“I have to leave…now.”
My mouth drops open at that. Of all the things I imagined her saying when she returned, that wasn’t one of them.