Despite the room being closed up, enough daylight peeked through here and there for him to read by. There were complaints about her father in the diary, a fair few of those. Seemed her dad had been quite the army man, moving them around, handing down orders. In truth, he sounded a bit of a jerk. No wonder she wasn’t impressed with Nick’s choice of career. Those days, however, were gone. But they had left him with the ability to protect and care for her. Ideally, it’d score him some points, but she wasn’t that easy.
She had dated. A decent number of men’s names came up in the diary, maybe even a few more than he felt comfortable with. Though if he was being a judgmental prick, he’d say she put more energy into the books she read. They certainly got more line space and fewer insults lobbed their way.
Seemed Roslyn was a very picky girl when it came down to it. Not so surprising.
Eyelashes fluttered over him, tickling him, as she stirred once more against his chest. Her mouth opened wide on a yawn, jaw cracking. The length of her body arched and went rigid as she stretched her back, the mounds of her breasts pushing into him. He’d be fucking delighted to set her straight with regard to her breasts. They were delicious and so was she. What were the odds of the sweater she was wearing magically disappearing? Probably low.
“Morning,” he said.
After blinking several times, she looked up at him and scowled. She abandoned her position, rolling off him and onto her side. Her wrist tugged at the cuffs, dragging at him. He almost dropped her diary.
She gazed at him crankily, terse lines bracketing her mouth. “What …”
Hard not to smile at her. She was so cute, all sleepy and ruffled. She frowned at his chest as if it had personally assaulted her. Like she hadn’t smeared herself all over him in her sleep of her own free will. Well, maybe she’d had a little help. A warm woman could be hard to resist on a cold winter’s night.
“Keep making that face and you’re going to get wrinkles,” he said.
Her eyes cut to his. “What did you do? Did you move me in my sleep?”
“No,” he lied.
“Right.” She snorted and tugged again on her end of the cuffs.
Then she saw the diary. Her diary. Eyes huge with horror, she grabbed for it. But he’d been expecting that. Quickly he passed it into his other hand and dangled it out over the side of the mattress, keeping it out of reach.
“What are you doing with that?” she screeched.
“Didn’t I tell you? I went to pick up your stuff yesterday.”
“Give it to me!” Roslyn lunged, attempting to clamber over him. He grabbed a fistful of her sweater with his cuffed hand, holding her back. Her other arm thrashed futilely about for the notebook. “Nick!”
His eardrums rang. “Noise.”
“Give that to me,” she hissed, hand waving. Obviously she’d given no thought at all to the way she was wriggling on top of him. His morning hard-on roared back to life. Reading her thoughts on other men had cooled him off, but this sort of stimulation he couldn’t ignore.
“So, this Tim guy, he refused to go down on you?”
“Nick.” His name was a short, sharp bark.
“Any heterosexual male who doesn’t like eating pussy is a fucking idiot, don’t you think?”
“Give it.”
“I mean, honestly. What’s not to like? Pussies are such fun.”
“Nick.” Her fingers clawed at his arms. There’d be marks later. He grinned and she growled.
“All hot and wet and juicy. And each one tastes different. And looks different.”
He liked it when she growled. Maybe he liked it a little too much. His body seemed fine-tuned to her every reaction. His cock, of course, poked her in the hip and she had to notice, no matter how mad she was.
And yeah, she did notice. Her eyes narrowed, homing in on his face. As if it was his fault.
He just shrugged. “Look at yourself. You’re all over me. It’s confusing for my dick. We don’t know what you want.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you actually talking about your dick in the first person?”
“You can give it a name if you like.”
“‘Inadequate’?” Her hand made a swipe for the book. “Oh, no. ‘Piteous’.”
“There’s no need to be nasty.”
“‘Pathetic’,” she crowed, well pleased with herself.
Such a smartass, was Roslyn.
Which was when he decided to play too.
Nick flicked his wrist and sent the diary skimming across the floor, safely out of the way. In one smooth move he flipped her off him and onto her back, straddling her in two seconds flat. Three at the most. Another second to slip a knee between her legs, and then he lay exactly where she didn’t want him, not ever, according to the look on her face. Her lips parted and her eyes flashed fire, most definitely not friendly. Her hands shoved at his shoulders and her head turned from side to side, searching for an exit.