Page 8 of The New York Nighthawks, Vol. 2

MARLEIGH

Ihad picked out my outfit for today a week ago, but my brain was so muddled by the mind-blowing orgasm that I stood in front of my closet for a full five minutes before I remembered what I was going to wear.

I’d been looking forward to my first behind-the-scenes experience at a fashion show ever since I landed my internship at the start of the second semester.

It was much earlier in the curriculum than other students were allowed to have one, but my mom had pulled some strings.

She got me the job with an up-and-coming designer who had been linked with several A-list celebrities, and the school wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to have their name linked with hers.

Even though I was going to be stuck doing all the menial tasks—stuffing attendee bags, placing name placards on the chairs, running last-minute errands if anyone needed something—this was a huge opportunity for me.

All my focus needed to be on the fashion show, but I found myself wanting to play hooky.

To just hole up in my apartment with Clay and pretend the outside world didn’t exist while I got to know him better.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option.

So I heaved a deep sigh of relief when I didn’t see him while I headed to the bathroom.

I had just stepped out of the shower when he rapped his knuckles against the door and muttered, “Headed to my team workout, baby. Have a good day.”

“You, too,” I croaked as I wrapped a towel around my dripping hair.

Getting ready was a lot easier when I knew he wasn’t in the apartment with me, but I still found my thoughts drifting toward Clay.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d prefer my hair up or down.

The rich, red berry shade of lipstick or the silky, pinkish plum.

And if he’d be tempted to stroke his fingers up my thigh since my shorts had a five-inch inseam.

The sequins and blouson style meant they were dressy enough to wear to a fashion show—especially since I had paired them with a matching, banded top—but still functional, which was important because I was going to be running around a lot.

The day ended up going about as I'd expected, except for the part where being distracted by thoughts of Clay made getting all of my tasks done a whole lot more difficult. Two separate times, I had realized that I’d accidentally put items into some of the bags twice when I got close to the end and was already out of them.

Searching through everything to hunt them down had wasted half an hour.

Then I’d started placing the name placards from the wrong side of the room, with the seating reversed.

Luckily, I caught my mistake before anyone else noticed.

There was a hierarchy to where people sat during fashion shows.

It would have been a disaster if everyone who was supposed to have the best spots were shifted to the wrong area—the kind that could have gotten me blackballed for pissing off someone with a lot of influence.

By the time I was on my way home, I was beyond exhausted.

The event hadn’t ended until after nine o’clock, and then I had to help clean up the disaster that had been left backstage.

My feet hurt, and my body ached as I walked into my apartment, but the pain faded into the background when I found Clay on the couch, his long legs stretched out on the cushions while he watched a baseball game.

My reaction to coming home to him was an eye-opener for sure. Even though he’d made me come, we barely knew each other. But that didn’t stop my heart from melting and my mood from lifting as he shot me a smile and said, “Hey, baby. How was your day?”

“Very, very long.” Kinda like his dick, judging by the bulge I’d spotted in his pajama pants this morning. My cheeks heated at the thought, and I ducked my head as I added, “I’m beyond exhausted.”

“I thought you might be.” He muted the television before getting to his feet and prowling toward me.

Then he took my purse and backpack from me and tossed them onto the couch.

Once my hands were free, he tugged me close and claimed my lips in a brief but hard kiss.

“That’s why I made sure there was something for you to eat in case you were hungry. ”

“I’m starved,” I admitted softly, my mind reeling at how attentive he was being.

“I guess I better feed you before you fall over.”

He guided me over to one of the stools at the kitchen counter and helped me onto it. Then he proceeded to blow my mind by pulling my favorite chopped salad out of the fridge. “How did you know the perfect thing to get me?”

His lips curved into a cocky grin. “I put your takeout menu drawer to good use again. Grabbed the second one from the top and called to ask what you usually order.”

“That was very clever,” I murmured as I scooped up a bite, thinking about how I needed to be careful with Clay.

I could all too easily lose my heart to him in the short time he was staying with me.

He was so much more than the hot jock the world saw.

He was also kind and smart. A quadruple threat to my emotions… and panties.

“I’m glad you approve.”

I almost choked on my bite when he winked at me, so I concentrated on my food until it was gone.

Climbing off the stool while he tossed the to-go container in the trash, I stumbled toward the bathroom when he nudged me in that direction.

I was barely able to keep my eyes open as I got ready for bed, and they drifted shut as soon as I crawled onto my mattress.

Too tired for my mind to wander, I drifted to sleep without thinking about how close my bed was to Clay’s.

But my obsession with his nearness bled into my dreams.

I was in the middle of a hot fantasy about Clay and me on a tropical beach with the waves lapping at our feet as he pressed me into the sand while he kissed me.

His lips trailed down my jaw when the surf reached my knees, and I was just about to suggest we take our make-out session somewhere else when I realized the wetness I was feeling wasn’t in my imagination…

and it wasn’t from being super turned on by my dream.

My eyes popped open, and I yelped when I saw the water dripping from the ceiling directly onto my bed. “Oh, crap. No, no, no.”

In an effort to get away from the leak, I bumped into the wall. It must have been enough to wake Clay because he called my name and came running into my room. “Marleigh?”

“I’m okay.” Sort of, at least.

All it took was a quick glance for him to take in what had happened. Rushing toward me, he muttered, “Shit, baby. Be careful. There’s no telling how much damage the leak has done to the ceiling.”

“I know.” That was all I got out before he swept me into his arms and carried me into Wrenley’s room.

When he set me on the mattress, I scrambled to my knees and finally noticed something that would have been super obvious if I hadn’t been staring at the ceiling when he came into my room. “You’re…um…naked.”

“Shit, yeah, sorry.” He grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the end of the bed and slipped them on. “It’s a good thing I had these from staying at Jordan’s place because I sleep nude.”

My brain couldn’t process what he was saying. It was too focused on the fact that he’d been completely naked while cradling me against his chest. If I hadn’t twined my arms around his neck, I might have touched his dick. Without anything between us.

“I need to get a bowl or bucket to catch the leak,” I blurted. And while I was at it, I should also splash some cold water on my face to help me cool down before I did something reckless.

“Stay where you are and get comfortable,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of it.”

While he went to grab a bucket from under the kitchen sink, I crawled off the mattress. I put on another set of sleep shorts and a matching tank, so I didn’t need to change into dry clothes. But I didn’t feel right taking his bed. Where he’d recently been. Completely naked.

Figuring that I’d just bunk on the couch, I was heading out into the hallway to grab some pillows and a blanket when he came out of my room and speared me with a look. “What’re you doing, baby? I told you that I’ve got this. You need sleep. Go back to bed.”

“I know, but I just need to grab a couple of pillows so I’ll be comfortable on the couch.”

His unhappy look turned into a glare at my admission. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he shook his head as a muscle jumped in his jaw. “No way in hell are you going to sleep on the couch. This is your place. I’m not putting you out of the only available bed.”

My gaze swept down his tall body, lingering on the bulge in his pajama bottoms. The one that I’d be able to see without the soft cotton blocking my view if I hadn’t mentioned that he was naked earlier.

I wasn’t sure if I should kick my own butt or pat myself on the back for that one.

Instead of mentally debating it, I murmured, “The couch is way too small for you.”

He jerked his chin toward the bed I’d just left. “There’s plenty of room for us both.”

I looked over my shoulder, trying to figure out if I should argue with his suggestion.

Before I could choose, Clay made the decision for me.

Nudging me toward the side of the bed farthest away from the door, he grumbled, “You’re still dead on your feet, baby.

Get some sleep. We can figure it all out in the morning after you’ve gotten some rest.”

With the adrenaline draining from my system, my exhaustion pulled at me again. So I climbed onto the mattress and curled up around a pillow that smelled like Clay. The morning would come soon enough, and he was right…we could decide on our sleeping arrangements going forward then.