Twisted Hate (Twisted 3) - Page 37

JULES

I wokeup to the faint scent of lavender and the heavy weight of a muscled arm draped over my waist. I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up with a guy in my bed. I usually didn’t do sleepovers.

The arm was nice, though. Strong, solid, and comforting, like it could protect me from anything, and it belonged to someone who smelled amazing.

I issued a soft sigh of contentment and snuggled closer to the owner of the arm. I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t quite ready to leave my comfy nest and face reality yet.

The arm tightened around my waist and pulled me closer to him until my back pressed flush against his torso. My lips curved of their own accord when he let out a drowsy masculine rumble and buried his face in my neck. Meanwhile, heat bloomed low in my stomach at the way the hard, sculpted lines of his body molded against my softer ones.

Who was he? Did we have sex last night?

My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet, and sifting through my memories of the past twenty-four hours seemed too daunting of a task this early in the morning.

I stretched and grazed something soft and fluffy. I cracked one eye open out of curiosity and spotted a folded hand towel on the bed next to me.

What was I doing with a towel in—

Vermont. Room mix-up. Ski lessons. Period. Josh. Massage.

My brain finally woke up, and the highlights from yesterday bombarded me at breakneck speed.

My eyes fully popped open. If Josh and I had to share a room, that meant the arm…

“Aaaah!” I threw him off and scrambled out of bed, banging my shin against the nightstand in my haste.

One day, I would look back and wince at my undignified scream, but all I could focus on right now was the fact that I’d slept with Josh Chen. Only literally, thank God, but still.

“Jesus.” He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. The sheets slipped down, revealing his bare, muscled chest. “It’s too early for your banshee impressions, Red.”

My breaths puffed out in rapid indignation. “You were cuddling me,” I accused. “And you don’t have a shirt on.”

I forced my eyes to stay on his face instead of the way his muscles flexed with each movement. Lean and powerful, they were the muscles of someone who honed them through sports and the outdoors, not the gym.

Broad shoulders, defined pecs, a sliver of his six-pack abs peeking out from the rumpled sheet around his waist…

Stop it.

“You were warm and there. It was instinct.” Josh yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s nice to see you alive, I guess. You were barely functioning yesterday.”

Despite his blasé tone, he scanned me with sharp eyes, like he was searching for traces of my discomfort from last night.

Thankfully, my periods were excruciating only for twenty-four hours or so. After that, the pain subsided to normal cramps. I’d dealt with them since I was eleven, and I’d learned how to fit my schedule around my estimated period start dates. This month’s had started four days early, though, which was why I’d been so caught off guard.

“Yes, well, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Some of the aggravation left my voice when I remembered what he did for me last night. I didn’t know whether it was his technique or the mere fact of having someone comfort me, since I usually hated being around people the first day of my period, but his massage had eased my pain more than anything else I’d tried over the years. He must’ve also made the hot towel compress after I passed out.

He didn’t have to do any of those things, but for some reason, he had.

“Thank you.” My gratitude came out equal parts grudging and sincere. “For…you know.” I gestured at my stomach.

I waited for Josh to gloat over my thanks—the first I’d ever given him—but he responded with a simple, “You’re welcome.”

Silence hummed between us. I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. I was bloated as hell from my period, and I must look like a mess with my face all groggy and my hair mussed from sleep.

Instead of looking away, Josh stared at me with an intensity that burrowed beneath my skin and kindled a fire low in my stomach, similar to the one that’d burned through me before I fell asleep last night.

I’d been floating on the verge of unconsciousness, but the combination of his strong hands, warm eyes, and the relief over my eased pain had sent my fantasies traveling down untrodden paths. Fantasies of what his touch would feel like on other parts of my body and whether his tongue was as talented as his hands…

A knock startled me out of my inappropriate musings.

Josh and I tore our eyes away from each other. The visible tension in his shoulders matched the rigidity of my muscles. We weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but that didn’t stop me from feeling like a kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar when Ava’s voice floated through the thick oak door.

“You guys up? Breakfast ends in half an hour.”

My gaze shot to the clock on the wall. Shit. We’d slept in later than I thought.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll be right out.”

Tags: Ana huang Twisted Romance
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