His body was warm, even after being outside in the cold. He’d slumped slightly, head tipped toward me, smelling unfairly good for someone unconscious. From here, I could see the perfect line of his jaw, the way his dark brows framed his face, and his lashes, long enough to cast shadows. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times while waiting for me.
When his head tipped onto my shoulder, I bit my lip. I shifted him toward the window, but he made a low, content sound in his throat that shot straight down my spine.
Fuck.
I couldn’t help myself, I reached to undo the top button of his shirt.
Devon caught me in the rearview mirror. “The hell are you doing?” His voice sharpened as we neared our destination. “Please don’t do that shit, Ry.”
“What? I’m not doing anything.”
“No?” He scoffed. “You’re practically groping the man. Jesus. What did I sign up for?”
I popped another button before stopping, my hand lingering just above his chest. His pecs were firm under the fabric.
“Stop,” Devon said flatly. “I promised to help you get him home, not… whatever the fuck this is.”
I rolled my eyes and sat back, but his heat still clung to me.
He wasn’t mine.
Not yet.
Not until I saved him from the baby trap.
“Thanks for helping me, Dev.” I forced a sweet smile, my voice dripping with flirtation. He didn’t bite, just looked irritated.
“Cut it out. Don’t flirt when I know damn well you’re probably fucking that dude.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “And by the way? This shit isn’t normal. I don’t know how you think this is gonna play out, Ry.”
I laughed under my breath. “What do you know about normal, Dev?”
“I know not to kidnap some guy just because I wanna fuck him.”
“I’m just taking him home.” My fingers brushed Nathan’s sleeve, feeling the solid weight of his arm. The weight of a man in his prime. He even smelled good.
“Justtaking him home,” Devon muttered.
“You’re one to complain. I helped you with your booty call, now you help me.”
“I’m helping you because you taught me what a good blowjob feels like. Don’t twist it.” He shook his head, his eyes flicking to Nathan. “Why drug him anyway?”
“Eyes on the road. And mind your own business.”
He grumbled but let it drop.
I turned back to Mr. Thorne.
No…Nathan.
His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
I wanted a baby.
My teeth clenched, replaying his wife’s voice from earlier, soft, pleading, asking about starting a family.
A wife was bad enough. You could divorce a wife. That wasn’t forever.
But a wife and kids? That was a life sentence. No matter what, part of him would always belong to someone else, and the thought made my stomach burn.
