Our hero, Wyatt, whom we met last week, wakes up with our heroine for the first time. It was supposed to be a strictly-platonic, non-hanky panky sort of sleeping following a scare the night before that left Marin not wanting to be alone and his own bed not in any condition to be actually used.
Usual disclaimer, copyright moi, don’t beg, borrow, or steal, etc.
Wyatt lowered Marin onto the hood of his Mustang. Her hair fanned out, gleaming against the black paint, and she beckoned him with a smile. God, at last, at last he could sate this hunger for her. He ran both hands up her ribcage, inching up the sexy little t-shirt until he could cup her beautiful bared breasts. She gave a sleepy little moan that shot an arrow of lust straight through him.
The weight of her breast in his hand was warm, her nipple hard against his fingers.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open.
Oh, God. Oh holy shit.
He was spooning her. The arm draped over her waist was tucked beneath her t-shirt, cupping her bare breast. His erection was nestled firmly between her legs. Had they both been naked, he could slip inside her on a wish. He ached with desire, wanting nothing more than to roll her over and bury himself in all of her wet heat.
And she was still asleep.
Jesus Christ, Thompson, you can’t even keep your hands off her in your sleep? Your willpower has reached a new low.
Could he move without waking her up? If she woke up what could he possibly say? Uh, sorry. I was just dreaming about making love to you on the hood of my car, and I started to feel you up in my sleep?
Oh sure, she’d say. Get out of my house.
Wyatt strangled on his own breath as she shifted, snuggling back into him. He had to move. Maybe if he closed his eyes and just rolled over as if he was still asleep and getting more comfortable… As casually as possible, he eased his hand free of her t-shirt and turned over onto his back. He did his best to maintain deep and regular breathing as he listened, counting the thumps of his heart and waiting.
Marin hadn’t stirred in almost two minutes. It looked like he’d made it. Relieved he finally let his body relax.
Then she sat up.
She moved gingerly and eased out of bed. Moose rose and stretched, his toenails clicking on wood as he followed her out of the room. Wyatt didn’t dare open his eyes until he heard the click of the door shutting behind her.
What were the chances that she just happened to wake up so soon after he’d moved? Slim, he thought. Wyatt wondered if he could sneak out of the room and jump in the shower before she got back upstairs from letting Moose outside. Maybe he’d have come up with an appropriate apology by the time he got out.
Before his feet hit the floor, he heard the shower start up across the hall. Groaning and still aching, Wyatt fell back on the bed and covered his face with a pillow. They had to do something to fix his bed today. He didn’t think he could survive another platonic night in the same bed with her.
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