Wingman [Woman] - Page 11/63

Rolling my eyes, I walk over to the window and shove it open. I finally found Reign a good one last night, it seems she was a really good one, too. He rarely lets women stay longer than a few hours. She squeals when she hears me and he lifts her and throws her off.

“What the fuck, Tia?” he barks.

“Good morning, sunshine. Time to get up. You did not drag my ass out of bed only to spend your morning fucking.”

I spin around and stare at him, a huge smile on my face. This isn’t the first time I’ve walked in on Reign fucking, and I know it won’t be the last. The girl is off his lap now and is sitting beside him, glaring at me. She’s got the sheet up to her breasts. He’s sitting up, only a sheet covering his very excited cock.

“Pitching a nice tent this morning, Reign.”

The girl makes a strangled sound and I turn to her. “I’m sorry, is something stuck in your throat? A pubic hair, perhaps?”

Her face reddens and she turns back to Reign. “Who is she?”

“Oh my God, he didn’t tell you?” I cry, pressing my hand to my cheek. “I’m his wife. But don’t worry, we divorced after I found him with his dick deep, deep in the maid’s throat.”

The girl jumps out of the bed and glares at him. “Are there other women, Reign? You said there wasn’t.”

He shrugs, but I can see him trying to hide his smirk.

She makes a noise laced with distaste, and quickly gathers her clothes before turning and rushing out. Reign sits up further, putting his hands up behind his head and staring over at me, an amused expression on his face. His muscles are bulging and he’s slightly sweaty from his extracurricular activities.

There’s only one tattoo on Reign’s perfect body, and it starts on his right pec and travels up, over his shoulder and just down his arm. It’s sexy as fuck. It’s a Celtic, black design, but boy does it work for him.

“You really enjoy doing that, don’t you?” he asks.

I walk forward and throw myself onto his bed. “Ugh, dude, your sheets smell like sex.”

He shrugs and leans over, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He takes two drags before offering it to me. I crawl up and sit beside him, resting my back against the headboard. Then I too, take a drag. We have this weird, casual friendship thing going on between us; there are never awkward moments between Reign and I.

“What’s the game plan for today?” I ask.

“You stick by my side, look pretty and make sure you appear to be havin’ a good time.”

I focus on him. “You sure she’s going to be there?”

He takes the cigarette off me, plucking it right out of my lips. “I’m sure.”

“You nervous?”

He snorts. “I don’t get nervous.”

I roll my eyes and tuck my legs up. “It’s been months.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Ugh, you’re so broody, even after sex.”

He stubs the cigarette out and looks over to me. “I didn’t get off because someone came charging in without knocking.”

“I knocked on the front door,” I point out. “And there’s always Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters to finish the job.” I grin, wiggling my fingers at him.

“You don’t shut that pretty mouth, I’ll roll you over and fuck you. God knows you owe me.”

I snort and slide out of the bed. “I don’t owe you anything, and you’re certainly not getting a piece of this.”

I point to my body and wiggle. His mouth twitches.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not my type.”

“Funny,” I say walking out of the room. “I’m making coffee, you want?”

“Yeah,” he yells as I disappear down the hall.

I’m in his kitchen making coffee when he emerges, wearing only a pair of low-lying sweat pants. I’ve seen Reign like this many times now, but damned if it doesn’t get better and better every time. I turn back to the coffee, trying to push the image of that just-fucked hair and those washboard abs out of my mind.

“You make the best coffee,” he says, reaching around me to pluck his cup from the counter.

“I know,” I say, turning and lifting my backside onto the countertop.

“I eat there.” He frowns, scrunching up his nose.

“Suck it up, princess. I don’t have diseases.”

He glares at me and I smile at him. “When was the last time you got fucked, Tia?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s none of your business,” I snap, lifting my coffee cup into my hands.

“That long, eh?”

“Eat a big one, Reign.”

He chuckles. “You need me to be your wingman today?”

“I do not need you to pick up. If I want sex, I’ll get it.”

“You want me to fuck you, babe?”

“Ha-ha,” I mutter, jumping off the counter and joining him at the table. “I’d say yes, only I’m not fond of getting chlamydia. My vagina and I have a woman code.”

“Might wipe some of that sass from you,” he points out, sipping his coffee.

“Never.”

His mouth twitches again and he leans back in his chair.

“What are you wearing today?”

“Clothes.”

He gives me a not funny expression.

“I have jeans and a tank, why?”