No Saint (Wild Men 6)
“No miracles,” she says somberly, and looks up, green eyes meeting mine. “I got it.”
And the question still wants out, clawing at my insides. “Then why? Why are you still here?”
She gapes at me. “You jumped off a building and you’re asking me that?”
“I didn’t fucking jump. You startled me. I fell.”
“Ah-huh.”
“... and it was a garage. Not a building.”
“Garages qualify as buildings, you know.”
She should run along home. Stay away from me. Certainly not do something sweet like sleep by my side. “I’m a lost cause, Lu. You know it.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m going to hold you until you fall asleep, if that’s okay with you.”
“Afraid I might fall off the bed and need rescuing?”
“I won’t let you fall again.”
Did I swallow broken glass earlier? My chest, my throat both burn. I do my best to hide it, turning my face away, chewing on my lip, hoping the pain will stop the sting in the back of my eyes. Can’t... Can’t let her see what she’s doing to me.
It’s been a long fucking evening. Way too long.
Testament of my exhaustion is the fact I let her tug me to bed, let her pull off my boots and my pants—though I have enough presence of mind to stop her from taking off my T-shirt—and then flop down on my back, barely moving to let her pull the covers from under me.
Holy shit, she’s coming to bed with me.
Just to sleep, Ross, I remind myself. Just to hold you. She said so. Those were the terms.
Yeah, tell that to my cock.
Down, boy.
Moonlight spills through the slats, bathing the room in a milky glow, making her skin gleam like marble.
She kicks off her shoes and pulls off her skirt, too, and despite my eyes closing, I nudge myself awake to watch. Even half-dead I’m drawn to her, my cock hardening. She slips under the covers with me, and I reach for her. I slip an arm under her head and she curls on her side, facing me, her curls spilling over my skin, warm and light.
“Comfortable?” I ask.
She nods. “You? I’m not crushing your arm?”
Her curls tickle my skin, her weight feels good. It’s not the arm I hung from earlier after dropping off the roof and— “Nope.”
She closes her eyes.
Her scent is all around me, her hair wafting a perfume of cinnamon and sugar, her skin jasmine and roses. Calming, relaxing me enough to sink more into the mattress—but also damn arousing, making my pulse spike.
“You know you left your bra on,” I inform her.
“Hm...”
My body is leaden, and I’m practically slurring my words, but my cock is fully hard now as she moves into my side, flinging an arm over my chest.
I clear my throat. “I’m serious. All those straps and wires... It will be more comfortable for you if you take it off.”
“Really.” One green eye opens and fastens on me. Slender brows knit in a scowl that would have cowed lesser men.