Six of Hearts(53)

Pure pornography.

I close the door and walk to the edge of the bed, breathing slowly, my eyes drinking him in. His phone is beside him on the pillow, which makes me think he must have been messaging me while he was like this. Barely clothed and sleepy.

He was definitely lying about the lawnmower, but why? Did he want to interrupt my date, or was he simply bored and felt like making a nuisance of himself?

My eyes go to the cubist-looking tattoo on one side of his chest. It’s definitely my favourite of all his ink, and he has a lot of it. It’s so vibrant on his smooth skin, and I have the sudden urge to touch it. His chest is rising and falling slowly. I reach out, and just when my fingertips meet his skin, his hand moves, swiftly grabbing my wrist. I startle, my attention going to his face. His eyes are still closed, his expression relaxed, but then his lips curve in a smile.

“What are you doing, Matilda?” he asks in a husky, sleepy voice.

Words fail me. He doesn’t let go of my wrist. Now he opens his eyes.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.”

There it is again. That “dahlin” will be the death of me one of these days. I try to pull my wrist away, but he holds on tight. In fact, he pulls on it, making me lean forward and dragging me closer to that delectable body of his. I suck in a breath.

“I came to have a word with you. You almost ruined my date with your stupid messages,” I say, but there’s no anger in my tone. None at all.

“Funny, it didn’t look like you came to have a word. It looked more like you came to feel me up in my sleep.”

I scowl at him. “I wasn’t feeling you up. I was only going to try to nudge you awake.”

He smirks. “Oh, that’s what it was, was it? Come here, then, and we’ll have a word.”

Quick as a flash he yanks on my wrist, pulling me down onto the bed with him. He moves me so I’m facing away from him, and then he wraps his arm around my middle so we’re spooning. Spooning! When I marched up those stairs, I never thought this was what would happen.

My heart speeds up, and so does my breathing. I can hear it all loud in my ears.

“So, go on. Put me in my place,” says Jay, his breath whispering over my neck.

“This isn’t how people have words, Jay,” I manage quietly.

“It’s not? But this is my favourite way to have words.”

“You messaged me on purpose. I know you did. You wanted to be a nuisance because you were bored.”

“Something you should know about me, I’m never bored,” he murmurs. “The chance for boredom would be a fine thing, but this fucking brain of mine never stops.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I told you, I was looking for the lawnmower.”

“The grass hasn’t been mowed.”

“I got tired, decided to go take a nap. You must be tired, too. You didn’t get much sleep last night. Let’s nap together.”

“I’m not napping with you. I’m still dressed. I haven’t even had the chance to take my shoes off.”

I don’t know why that detail seems so pertinent, but it’s what I focus on. Perhaps so I don’t have to focus on his hard chest pushing into my back.

He lets out a breath. “Go ahead and take off some articles, then, darlin’. I’m not going to complain.”

“Why would I nap with you?” I ask, speaking softly now. “I have a perfectly good bed right next door.”

“Because sleeping in a pile is the best way to sleep, and you can’t do that alone. Haven’t you ever read Where the Wild Things Are?”

“This isn’t a pile. This is a spoon. And just so you know, it takes more than two people to make a pile.”

“Wanna bet?” he asks, and then rolls us swiftly so I end up right on top of him. My body is lying flat along his, and I’m in danger of combusting. I can feel every sculpted inch of him, every hard line.

“Now we’re a pile. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep like this.”

“Stop betting me — you’ll only lose.”

He moves his legs between mine and uses his feet to push off my shoes. “And now your shoes are off. You should definitely be able to sleep now.”

There are a long few moments of silence.

“Jay,” I whisper.

“What, honey?” he whispers back, his hand stroking up and down my spine. I nestle my head into the crook of his neck and close my eyes. There’s no point in protesting anymore. I need to admit that this is probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Plus, I am pretty exhausted.

“I think I like sleeping in a pile.”

His answering chuckle vibrates through his chest, lulling me off to sleep.