𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝘽𝙖𝙙

Chapter 19: Migraine

♦ ♢ ♦ Xavier ♦ ♢ ♦

"Yeah?" Kaitlyn asks me softly as she comes to straddle me, her long, smooth legs on either side of my hips as I lie back down on my bed.

She is in nothing but her black bikini, the same one she wore to that pool party, her long brown hair caressing my bare chest in the softest of ways.

It's like I'm on cloud nine while I use my hands to learn the soft texture of her skin. My hands squeezing her hipbones a little when the reach there, making her chuckle softly. The sound fills my head, dancing around merrily.

"Yes," I breathe. "Take it off for me."

Her blue eyes stare into mine as her lips form the softest of smiles. Her hand goes back, and she slowly pulls the strings of her bikini top, loosening it.

I can't handle it, I switch positions, making her gasp as she's under me. I hook my finger into the strap, and pull, revealing her pretty, pretty tits.

"Can I kiss them?" I ask her.

"Kiss them," she breathes, her eyes heavy lidded and dilated.

I groan in satisfaction, starting to drop my face to taste her flesh. But someone knocks on the door.

Kaitlyn gasps. Her hands grip onto my shoulders. "Someone's here. They will see."

"Let them see what I do to you, baby," I say before-

The door bursts open, flooding the room with light that hurts my brain.

"Fuck," I groan, covering my eyes.

"Sir," I hear Luca, my servant, and immediately, go into panic mode. He will see Kaitlyn naked-

I bolt upright, trying to cover... nothing. I look around my room, and all I see is the sunlight filtering into my room and my rumpled sheets that thankfully cover my painfully hard dick, but they don't help the absolute fucking pain I feel in my head.

"Sir? Are you well?" I hear Luca.

I look to the entrance of my room, and see him all dressed up in his normal black suit.

"Fine," I say, but my brain pulses. "Actually, no," I groan, the pain getting worse. Doesn't help I've got morning wood.

Wait.

I was dreaming about... and did I give myself a migraine when...

What. The. Fuck.

"How come you're here?" I ask, rubbing my eyes, the throb killing me.

"We heard you through the door, sir. I thought you were calling for me," he says. "Are you well?" He asks again.

I nod as he speaks. Fucking hell, I hope he didn't hear anything inappropriate. "No, my head hurts. Can you get me some medicine?"

"Yes, right away," he departs.

I flip back on my bed, check the time. Fuck- it's seven... practice started an hour ago. I've got messages from my team and coach, but my vision goes hazy when I try to read.

I switch it off, and massage my head. Nothing works. And my head hurts too much to start thinking about that fucking dream, so I push it aside for later.

"Here," Luca appears a minute later with two white tablets. "Usually you would have left by five thirty. What about practice?"

"I had it, but I somehow slept through the alarms. And I'm in no condition to be on ice right now," I groan, sitting up and accepting the tablets. "Thanks."