Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I blink my eyes, trying to understand where I am and why I'm so afraid. And then it comes back to me. Poe's room, Poe's bed, and I'm safe. Just dreaming. Just like last night, my heart is pounding and there’s a sheen of sweat on my skin, but this time it’s for an entirely different reason. The images blur even as I try to remember what was happening in my dream, but I can still smell the smoke and hear screaming.
I draw a deep breath and close my eyes, still sitting up, just trying to center myself. To make my heart slow down. To stop shivering.
“Paige?” Poe asks in a sleepy voice.
He's standing at the end of the bed in nothing but a pair of boxers. If my head wasn’t still full of horror, I think I’d appreciate the view a lot more. Even now, I’m not immune to the way the moonlight plays on his inked skin.
“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”
“Dreams? You've been whimpering for a while. Was about to come in anyway to check when you screamed.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I'll be okay.” Eventually. “Could you—Never mind.”
“What?”
What do I have to lose? “Could you stay with me? Like you did last night?”
“Sure, honey.” His voice is low and gravely from sleep, but his eyes are alert and I’m sure he can see the shivers that I can’t quite stop, no matter how hard I rub my arms to make the chills go away.
I raise the corner of the covers and he slides in next to me. “I’m being a baby about this, aren’t I?”
His face is shadowed, but I can almost feel the way his gaze slides over me, from my messy hair, to the way the neck of his borrowed shirt hangs loose, and to where my braless breasts are pushing out against the soft fabric. “There’s nothing babyish about you.”
A shiver races through me, making my spine tingle.
“You know, I know a lot of good ways of getting to sleep.”
There’s no way to misinterpret what he means. “That sounds like asking for trouble.”
“Sometimes a little trouble's fun, and I think you agree. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess.”
“Hey!”
He tugs me down into the bed with him, wrapping a strong arm around me and pulling me in until my head is resting on his chest, rising and falling in time with his deep breaths. He's warm, and safe. Being so close lulls my own body into following the same rhythm, and I feel myself relaxing. I throw a leg over his thigh and sigh.
I’ve never been this close to a man I wasn’t already romantically involved with, and even so, I’ve only actually slept with two people before. My high school boyfriend, who was a great starter package. Kind, safe and entirely forgettable once we graduated. And my college boyfriend, who wasn’t the worst, but only lasted a few months and taught me that I kinda lucked out the first time around.
I drift in and out of sleep, listening to his soft breathing and enjoying the closeness. My face is pressed against his pec, and the urge to just turn my head a little and kiss it, right by his nipple, is strong.
Something nudges my thigh and my eyes pop open when I realize what it is. Is he awake? He's not pushing me with it, or doing anything weird, so it’s probably just a natural reaction, but once I feel it, I’m very, very aware that we're just lying here with his dick pressing against my thigh through his boxers.
The hand draped over me starts stroking my side. A soft, slow motion that tingles across my skin with every caress. I can pretend it's not happening, or I can accept the invitation. The decision only takes a moment before I start exploring his side with my fingers, sliding them up his chest and exploring the muscular expanse of him.
“I'm trying to be a fucking gentleman,” he whispers in the darkness. “But fuck, you're not making it easy.”
As if to emphasize his point, his dick twitches. God, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? I move my leg, rubbing my thigh over his shaft.
A soft growl rumbles deep in his chest. “Fuck,” he hisses.
I gather my courage, then whisper right next to his nipple, hoping my breath will tickle it, “Someone told me sometimes a little trouble can be fun.”
With a sleepy laugh, he rolls me right up on top of him, trapping his dick between us as I straddle his thighs, his thick length pressing firmly against my panties. Wetting my lips, I place a kiss on his chest, then look up to find him looking back at me, dark, lusty fire in his black eyes.
He slides his hands down to cup my ass, pulling me against him. The pressure between my legs makes me gasp, even with our underwear in the way. I grind my hips against him in response, and we both moan.