No idea, but please let me figure it out. Quickly.
I don’t want to wake him, but I also don’t want Sandra coming in here. Not that she has ever barged into my old room, but still, today could be the day.
“Gracie?” she calls again.
I peel myself off him, slowly and carefully, andveryreluctantly. As I watch him stir, I hold my breath and stay frozen to the spot. He rolls over to his side, breathing deeply.
And I breathe easy again.
I don’t want to explain anything right now. There is no time for that. I have to find Sandra and tell her I’m here.
How does she know I stayed here tonight?
My car is in the parking lot—of course.
I grab a sweater and some sweat pants that are stored in the cupboard for emergency sleepovers and tiptoe out of the room. Gently opening the door, I close it softly behind me and then take the stairs down.
“Sandra,” I say.
Her head pops out from the bar. I jump on the spot and feel my pulse rise from the shock.
“Shit, you scared me,” I say, knowing I’m edgy because I’m hiding a sexy man in my bed, and even though she might not care, I do. This would be so damn embarrassing if she knew.
And to admit it’s a hookup—even worse.
“Sorry, love. I’m tidying up. You must have had a busy night for you not to clean up afterward.”
She frowns as she looks around, and as I do too, I swallow hard. Yep, I officially left a trail of mess in the whole fucking bar, including cups, food bowls, stains, and water… water everywhere.
I hope to God that there is no evidence ofmefrom the bar. I still need to scrub it. Which I plan to do right fucking now.
“Yeah, it was a wild bunch last night,” I lie. Well, kind of.
“Well, Merry Christmas, Gracie. I was grabbing some wine for lunch today, but I can stay and help clean up.”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve got this. You go and organize lunch. And Merry Christmas to you too.” I smile.
I’m not affectionate, and I love how Sandra has always given me my space. Allowed me to be me and not try to push the physical niceties, like hugs and cheek kisses. Marc cuddling me all night was a huge deal; it took a while for me to accept he wasn’t going to peel away and sneak out. But no, he stuck to his promise, and it was wonderful.
“Let me just help with the tables and then grab the wine. And don’t forget the pudding.”
“Okay,” I say and move behind the bar, wincing at the mess we made. I don’t regret it. I just wish I did this last night.
I’m almost finished scrubbing everything down, and she has finished tidying the tables, when I feel a hand on my stomach. He’s standing behind me. I tense and glance around at Sandra clearing tables with wide eyes. What the fuck is he doing? And why didn’t I see or hear him come down the stairs?
“Shhh,” he whispers in my ear. “Stay quiet.”
I nod, adrenaline pumping through my veins. And I don’t have any time to think about anything else because he drops behind me, and I feel his hand inside my pants, reaching around to rub my clit, using hard, purposeful strokes. My body hums in response, liking every way he touches me. I widen my stance and grip the counter as I feel a finger slip inside my pussy, and I have to swallow back a moan. This is so much harder than I ever thought possible.
The thought of getting caught by Sandra is sending me into a tailspin. I have sweat forming on my back and my heart is racing with nerves, but the feeling of an incoming climax washes through me regardless. He slips in a second finger, pumping in and out in perfect rhythm, making my thighs clench around his hand. I can hear my wetness, and usually that would make me blush, but I’m past being embarrassed around him. I’m just too eager for release.
“Don’t make a sound, or she might hear you.”
I gulp and nod.
He is about to bring me to orgasm, and I’m not allowed to make a sound. This isn’t fucking fair.
I turn my head so I can look at him. He pauses his fingers, and I’m about to protest, but I remember he will leave me here hanging until I answer him with words.