Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(127)

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“Rebecca. Wake up. Come on woman, wake up.”

I swim out of the delicious dream to insistent shaking and the sound of Devon’s muttering, growling in displeasure.

I’d been dreaming of a field of wildflowers, one that surrounded me in colourful splendour and peace as I lay relaxed and supine, his hands stroking lovingly through my hair as we laughed and loved and spoke about nothing more serious than baby names and the colour of the minivan he wants me to get.

When I come fully awake I stretch and kick at the sheets, freeing myself from the cobwebs in my brain. I feel wonderful and rested and-

“I said wake up woman. We need to talk.” He snarls and my eyes pop open to see my very pissed off man standing at the foot of the bed glaring at me with distaste. “Cover yourself.”

I look down to see that my nightie has ridden up, exposing my lower half and the bottom swells of my breasts. There are two ways for me to play this according to Ry, first I could stretch again and give him a long, drawn out view of my junk or second, I could sit up and cover the goods.

The boys have assured me both will get a reaction and while I want to believe them I am woefully sure that the sight of my ginormous stomach is in no way sexy and seductive so I sit up and yank my nightie down, shielding myself from his angry gaze.

“What the hell are you doing in my bed? And why are your clothes back in the closet?” he demands, planting his hands on his hips.

I swallow and look down, almost swallowing my tongue when I see that he’s wearing nothing but a towel and that water droplets from his shower are wending their way down his body, collecting in the terrycloth where it’s knotted neatly low on his hip bones.

The sight has me swallowing again, this time for a wholly different reason and I feel my cheeks heat when my nipples bead and my core clenches wildly.

“Rebecca!”

“Oh, uh, er.”

I have the wildest urge to start screaming the word carrot over and over again because nothing and I mean nothing makes my brain turn to mush like the sight of Devon Baxter parading around in his natural state.

I quash the urge, but only just, and pick my head up to meet his livid eyes. Oh man, he really is not pleased to have me invading his room.

“I, needed to talk to you?”

His lips turn up in what I can only describe as a sneer and he shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“You’ve brought all your clothes back in here. I do not want you in here. At all. So I suggest you get to work removing them back to your room and then please, stay out of my way.”

“But Dev.”

It’s hard to talk when he turns away and walks into the closet, his firm ass bunching deliciously beneath the damp white towel, giving me a mouth-watering view of the muscles I’d been privileged to squeeze only nights ago.

Dammit, I want those buns back. And the abs and the mouth and hands. Oh and the di-

“Stop eyeballing me and get up. You have an hour to move all of your belongings to the other room or-”

“What? What will you do huh? I’m not moving, I’m staying right here where I belong and that’s that.” I say, finally finding my tongue when he pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and pulls slacks from a hanger.

That statement has him coming up short and I watch his face harden as he zips himself up and comes storming back to the bed, his eyes so cold I want to shrink back and agree to anything as long as he stops looking at me that way.

“What?”

“You, you heard me.” I stammer, grinding me teeth in an effort not to cry. “I’m not moving. This is my bed too.”

“No. This is my bed. The bed I had to beg you to come to if I remember correctly.”

Oh Lord. Am I gonna have to hear about this for the rest of my freaking life! I hope so since that would mean that we’d still be together and fighting as usual. Oh, the dreams I have.

“Yeah, but I did get in here eventually and I like it here.”

Good Slade, stand your ground.

His nostrils flare for a beat before he nods and stalks into the closet.

“Fine. I’ll move.”

“Uh, you’re wasting your time Devon.” I sing to his retreating back, my lips curving into a smile I don’t feel. “I’ll just keep moving to wherever you are.”

“Oh for God sake! What do you want from me!” he yells, throwing the armful of clothes to the floor and stomping back. “Get it through your head. I. Do. Not. Want. You. Anymore.”

Don’t cry Beck, remember, nothing worth having is ever easy. You can do this.

“That’s okay. I want you enough for both of us.” I say, flinging the covers back and struggling to my feet. “I love you enough that I can take whatever it is you want to throw at me.”