“If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious what could have made you so mad…or scared.”
She tugged on the blanket until it tucked under her chin. The battle to burrow under the covers was lost. She dug deeper until she felt safe and looked over to make sure the curtains had been closed. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
“Got it. I didn’t mean to pry.” He folded the open end of the bag of chips and shifted to get up.
The last thing she wanted was for him to leave. “Wait, don’t go. Please stay. I want you to stay.”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“Yes, at least stay until I fall asleep…please?”
His expression softened. “You sure? I’m pretty beat. Would it be okay if I just stayed here?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
He stood up and tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, dragging the soft material over his head. Her eyes widened. Oh, Holy Mother. The hard planes of his chest rose and fell as he tossed his shirt on the floor. “Is this good? I can’t sleep in a shirt. Makes me feel tied down.”
“Um, sure. Yes…I mean, no. I mean, it’s fine. It’s good. I don’t mind.”
He chuckled as he slid under the covers. “Good. If I have to put up with your fairy underwear, then you can put up with my lack of a shirt.”
She rolled onto her side and watched as he situated the covers around him and Penelope. “For your information, she’s Tinker Bell.”
“They’re green, and a girl’s face is on your ass.”
Now she was outright laughing. This was supposed to be a romantic, sexy roll in the hay. Instead, his charm made her smile, made her feel safe. “Just because your thong is stuck up your butt doesn’t mean you can judge my panties.”
“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I want to judge your panties. And what’s in them too.”
“Well, maybe I want to judge your thong and what doesn’t fit in it too.”
He tapped his finger on the tip of her nose. “Ha-ha.”
Maybe she went over the line. It was the truth. There was no thong on the planet that could hold his cock in place. What a beautiful thought. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It was rude. How about judge your thong and the pink bow on the front of it?”
“No, I think I like you thinking about my dick swinging in a pink thong. Kind of turns me on.”
This time she tapped him on the nose. “Ha-h—”
He grabbed her finger. “Roll over.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so, silly. Come on. Didn’t I get you home safely? And who gave your dog her treats? Come on, roll over for me.”
“Um, okay.” Abigail rolled over, showing him her back. As she turned, the room began a slow spin. “Whoa, the room’s moving.”
Sean laughed. “The walls are solid. Your tipsy ass is moving.”
She waited for the room to stop spinning and turned the rest of the way over. “Ha-ha, funny guy. Sean?”
“Yeah?”
“I can trust you, can’t I?” The moment the words found life, all she wanted to do was kill them. Her skin prickled. The bed shifted, and suddenly a wall of heat radiated through her thin tank top.
“Can you really trust anybody?”
And finally, the hands that she’d admired so many times, the same hands that took the paychecks from her much smaller ones, the same hands she’d watched now on three videos take his big cock into their palms and stroke until sweet cum oozed from the broad tip. Those same ruggedly beautiful hands were rubbing her shoulders in a gentle yet firm massage. A touch ensuring not only relaxation but safety and unimaginable pleasure.
“I guess not. God, Sean, that feels wonderful. Those mai tais made my brain fuzzy.”
“Say it again.” The husky whisper warmed her ear. This brutally gorgeous man was breathing against her cheek, forcing her pussy to take notice. The crotch of her panties was soaked. She rubbed her thighs together, enjoying the euphoria between a coveted dream world and the safe reality of her fighter. If only she could keep her eyes open. The reality of Sean beat out her wet dreams any day. His erotic whisper made her body feel heavy, sinking her bones farther into the mattress.
“It feels wonder—”
“No, my name. Say my name.”
Now she was going to die—from passion. “S-Sean.”
“Damn, your sleepy voice makes my dick hard.”
“Mmm.” Was this a dream? Had she already fallen asleep?
“You can fall asleep, Abigail. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
The promise was more than she could ever ask for and more precious than he could ever know. The tips of his warm fingers slid under the straps of her tank top. The pads of his fingers were rough, and it felt like each swirl of his fingerprint was being imprinted on her skin. He worked for a living, unlike her ex. Justin had ridden into a partnership on her dad’s coattails and thanked her by stuffing her in a closet. Sean was the type to make it on his own. He didn’t need to skim off someone else’s accomplishments. He was making his way in the world, and Abigail admired that about him.