Bossy(103)

Gavin throws a pleading glance my way, with big puppy dog eyes and a dismay written all over his face. “I’m going to be walking fucking crooked tomorrow from all the kinks I’ll get sleeping on that thing.”

“Serves you right.” I already know it’s too short for him, and it’s got those wooden armrests. He’s not kidding, but seriously? Sharing a bed?

“Fine. Whatever.” He still looks like a sad, kicked puppy.

I sigh. This was probably the look mini-Gavin practiced in the mirror before he was old enough to work on his mother-pleasing face. It works, damn him. “Stop. Alright, you can stay. But keep on your side. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

He looks genuinely relieved. “I know I don’t say this often, but you’re a fucking gem, Sis.” When he turns, it’s pretty obvious that his pants don’t hide a thing. Still at half mast, his dick bounces freely under the soft fabric, holding my attention in ways I don’t want to admit to.

The bed shifts as he sits down and slips under the comforter. I tuck down the sides, wrapping myself in, but even just knowing that he’s there creates a kind of intimacy that’s hard to ignore.

Jesus, Angie, it’s not like you have the hots for him or anything.

Right?





Chapter 9: Angie


Ugh. I’m pretty sure I’m in bed, but everything’s rocking. My eyes open slowly, and I look around with bleary eyes. Why does my head hurt so much? What is this place? Is it heaven? Everything’s white.

Suddenly it all comes back to me with a crash. The cruise. The wine. Gavin.

Still blinking, I’m convinced something else feels wrong. I shift, or I try to. I’m stuck. Why am I stuck? Drawing a deep breath, I stop and think. It’s like swimming to the surface from far underwater. Mornings are never my thing, but hung over, they’re apparently even worse.

I’m pinned by an arm, slung over me by a large warm presence that’s spooning me. It feels nice. Cozy almost. I’m tempted to close my eyes and slip back to sleep. Of course, the only people in here are me and Gavin, so—

My eyes go wide. Shit. He’s supposed to be on his side, not attached to mine. What’s he doing wrapped around me? And why does it have to feel so nice? Now that I’m aware of him, I can feel his deep breathing, his chest pressing against my back every time he inhales, and his soft warm breath brushing over my neck when he lets it back out. His muscular arm is heavy, holding me close. I’m lying in a sort of running position, with one leg in front of the other, and one of his legs is across the back one. I’m completely stuck.

He’s asleep. Thank God. Maybe he doesn’t know. I don’t want to wake him, but I’m not sure what to do. I want to stay put, even burrow in deeper against him, but with how things are, that would be a Terrible Idea. But what can I do? It’s hard to think when my head feels like I’m wearing a helmet one size too small.

Indecision makes me pause, pausing makes me lower my head to my pillow, and being hung over makes my eyes slide shut. I’ll fix it in the morning. Or whenever I wake up. Then all the white fades back to black.





Chapter 10: Gavin


Mmm... Nothing like waking up with an almost naked girl in your arms and her sexy ass pressing against your morning wood. I don’t usually stick around long enough, but so long as I’m here... except wait, shit. This isn’t my place, and that’s not where that particular ass is supposed to be. Or I’m supposed to be. Or something.

My eyes pop open, finding wild, dark bed hair sticking in all directions right in front of my face. Angie. Not only is she pressing against my hardon, I’ve got my arm around her. It also looks like it’s decidedly my fault, as I’m about as close to her side of the bed as is possible without pushing her off the bed.

Well, fuck.

I listen and hear her soft steady breathing. At least she’s still asleep. My cock twitches, thinking this is awesome, but this isn’t my gig. God knows I’d love to fuck her brains out, and if I take it soft and sweet, she might even let me, but when it happens, it’s going to be because she wants it, not because I’ve got her trapped and unconscious. I have my pride. And morals, I guess, but don’t let it get around. A guy has a reputation to maintain.

Alright, easy does it. I try to slide away, but she’s grabbed onto my arm, which is fucking cute and all, but doesn’t make it any easier to pull away. Still, she’s a heavy sleeper, and with a little tug I get my arm loose. Then it’s just a matter of rolling away carefully.

It’s when I immediately run out of comforter that I understand how I ended up on her end of the bed. Self-preservation. The little blanket thief. Most of it’s hanging over the edge and down on the floor on the other side of her. I’ve probably just been chasing her across the mattress in my sleep, trying to stay warm. So nothing happened.