Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I give her a smile and she returns it, which brings me relief. Regret was not the very first thing on her mind, apparently. Regan lays her head down on my chest, and fuck if I want to get out of bed today.
“Just went to the hospital to see Tacker,” Legend says, and that causes me to sit up a little straighter. I haul Regan with me.
“He let you in?” I ask.
“Didn’t have a choice. I just walked in. He was by himself when I got there.”
“How is he?”
“Banged up. Broken wrist, but that will heal, and he was getting discharged. As I was leaving, there was a police officer there to arrest him.”
“Fuck,” I growl, causing Regan to push off me. She brushes hair away from her face, which is incredibly beautiful despite her eyes being puffy with sleep and a tiny bit of drool at the corner of her mouth. Her expression is grave in reaction to my tone, and she tilts her head in question. I give a slight shake of my head—indicating I’ll fill her in later—then ask Legend, “What does that mean for the team?”
“No clue,” he says. “But if I had to guess, I’m thinking he’s not going to be a factor on our team.”
“Think he’ll be cut?”
“Maybe,” he muses. “But no sense in worrying about it. I just called to let you know why I didn’t make our workout.”
“Yeah, I didn’t make it either,” I admit, glancing at Regan who is still leaning up on one arm, staring at me. My eyes drop to her breasts, to the bump where her port is, then farther to the treasure between her legs. I fucking want that again… and more than once. When I return my eyes to her face, her cheeks are pink, but she holds my gaze.
“You feeling okay?” Legend asks. To his way of thinking, the only thing that would keep me away from a workout would be if I was on death’s door.
I can’t really say, Sure, man… just lying in bed with my wife who I’m going to fuck again after we hang up.
So I say, “Yeah… I’m good. I’ll see you at practice, though.”
“Later, brother,” he says and then disconnects.
I reach an arm across the bed, place my phone on the table, and turn to Regan. “That was Legend. He saw Tacker this morning briefly. Looks like he’s going to be arrested for driving under the influence.”
“Oh, that’s bad,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” I take in Regan’s posture, still leaning casually with one arm planted into the mattress, her legs curled to the side. Her expression gives nothing away as to how she feels waking up naked next to me after we fucked last night. “You feel okay?”
She grimaces slightly. “Actually… I’ve got a bit of a headache, which I’m assuming is the bourbon, or maybe I’m a bit dehydrated.”
“Could it be the PNH?” I ask, immediately throwing my legs over the side of the bed to exit. I pad into the bathroom, then grab a Dixie cup of water and some headache medicine.
When I return, she continues, “Probably not. This feels alcohol induced.”
“Were you drunk last night?” I hand her the water and painkillers.
She accepts both but before taking them, she asks a question of her own, “Is that what you think? That I didn’t know what I was doing?”
“Well, did you?” I can’t help the defensiveness in my tone. I feel like I have the right to wonder about these things. There’s no offense to her, but I’m probably on edge because I’m going to feel fucking wretched if it was a mistake on her part.
Regan rolls her eyes. “Of course I knew what I was doing. I mean… I think I did.”
Fuck, she has doubts. “You either did or didn’t. If you weren’t in control of—”
“I was in control,” she snaps. “I made my choice. Perhaps with some bolstering by the alcohol, but it was still a valid choice.”
“But you just said you ‘thought’ you knew what you were doing,” I point out, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not that you ‘absolutely’ knew what you were doing.”
Regan blushes so much the redness creeps from her cheeks to her neck and chest. She blinks for a moment and then rolls off the bed, searching for her clothing.
She thinks she’s going to avoid me, but that’s not going to happen. Rounding the bed, I step into her path. “Did you or did you not know what you were doing?”
With a resounding growl of frustration, Regan snaps, “I’m not sure. We did things I’d never done before, so I don’t know if I was any good at it.”
“What?” I ask, taking a slightly stumbling step back as if she’d just punched me in the chest. She doesn’t know if she was any good at it? It was only the best sex of my life, and she—