Loving the Homewrecker (BOOK 3)

14

Adora

I let out my usual morning sigh, my arms raised above my head as I stretched.

I looked around and was confused for a split second, but it hit me.

I wasn't in our usual bedroom, I was in the bedroom downstairs.

What was the technical term for it? What did he consider it as? A bedroom, a movie room, a sex room?

I sat up and held the sheet close to my bare body, looking around for any article of clothing to cover myself with. I grabbed my underwear and slipped them on, standing up.

I walked around topless for a solid minute before I found Santiago's folded clothes at the foot of the bed. I grabbed his black button up, slipping it on over my shoulders.

I looked around the room, an eyebrow cocked up. It really was a beautiful room, and Santiago did a great job keeping it secret.

I was really surprised he hadn't slipped and said, oh, hey, I'm building you a sex room.

I turned off the lights and closed the door behind me, jogging upstairs to the main floor. I opened the door at the top of the staircase, peeking out into the kitchen.

I froze when I saw Santiago leaned against the counter, already sipping on whatever alcohol he'd pulled off of the shelf at first glance.

I let out a shaky sigh and closed the door behind me, but it resulted in a loud slam.

I stood against the door awkwardly, my bottom lip in between my teeth.

"Morning," he greeted, an eyebrow cocked up.

My eyes trailed down his near bare body, covered only in sweatpants and obviously no underwear considering what I could see.

"M-morning," I said, basically tripping over my words.

He smiled and opened the fridge. I decided leaning against the door until he went upstairs was a lost cause, so I pushed myself off of it.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Sleep good?" He asked, his jaw muscle taut.

"U-uh, yeah, I slept good," I answered, nodding, "you?"

"The new room was an adjustment, but yeah," he said, "I slept good."

I nodded. "That's good."

"Why are you tripping over yourself?" He asked, a confused smile on his face.

I shook my head, my bottom lip jutted out. "I-I'm not."

Yes, you are.

"You're stuttering," he said, "that's tripping over yourself. Is it about last night, and how exactly I fucked you?"

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his lips against my neck.

I cocked my head over, my hand covering his own.

"I have to go to work," he whispered against my neck, "stop by today. Please."

I smiled and looked at him from over my shoulder. "Only if you and I can make a deal."

I turned around to face him, leaning against the counter. I grabbed his hand and smiled up at him.

"Okay, what's the deal?" He asked, a smile on his face.

I wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling his head down to mine. I pressed a kiss against his ear, my hand gliding down his abdomen.

"We get to use our room again. Soon."