The Blood Debt - Page 74

I vigorously shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I could literally die right now and not care. Nope.

He leans in. “I hope you did.” And he winks.

He actually fucking winks.

Is it hot in here or is it just me?

I roll around again and close my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else, because this kind of embarrassment is too much to take.

Until he crawls out of bed and takes off his pants … right in front of me.

Good God, that sculpted ass of his, I don’t think I can ever get used to it.

He walks to his closet and fishes out a fresh pair of sweatpants, while my eyes can’t stop ogling the damn thing swinging between his legs.

I’ve really lost it this time.

Yup. Completely lost it.

He turns around and I immediately close my eyes again to avoid confrontation. Every single one of his footsteps make my heart thump, though.

He crawls on top of me again, and I just about die as he lies down behind me again … and throws his arm over my body as if I didn’t just make him come in his sleep.

Too late for regrets.

Still, I shiver from feeling his body against mine, because my clit is still humming from the amazing orgasm I just had at my own damn hands.

“Are you cold?” he asks, gently nudging the blanket up farther.

I’d almost say it was charming … if he wasn’t my captor.

I clear my throat to try to remain calm. “No. It’s just … there isn’t much room to move.”

“I’ll make a bigger bed soon.”

“Make?” I laugh it off, but he sounds serious.

“Yes.”

“You make it sound easy,” I say.

“That’s because it is,” he quips.

I roll my eyes.

“I make a lot of things.”

Well, I guess this conversation is better than having to admit I just used him for my own pleasure. “Like what?”

“Chairs. Tables,” Liam replies. “The one you sat on … I made it by hand.”

I can’t help glance at him over my shoulder. “You made that?”

He nods, a gentle smile on his face. The same gentle smile I remember from back in the days, when everything seemed so much easier. “Cut the leather from a deer.”

Yuck. Not the kind of conversation I want to have after what just happened. “Okay. TMI.”

Tags: Clarissa Wild Erotic
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