She was turned on. In her sleep. Because of me? Or was she dreaming about someone else?
The possessive snarl that rose in my chest took me by surprise.
I slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her easily. She was soft in my arms, her body molding into mine. My heart hammered as I carried her to the spare room, her room now. I nudged the door open with my foot, pulled the blankets back, and eased her down onto the mattress.
She stirred, eyes fluttering briefly, but didn’t wake. Her fingers, though, didn’t let go of my shirt. Her legs shifted, tangling with mine, and before I could stop myself, I gave in and slid in beside her, pulling the blankets over us.
Her body curled against me naturally, like she’d always been meant to fit there. Her thigh pressed between mine, her breasts brushing against my chest. My arm slipped around her waist, fingers resting on the curve of her hip.
I knew I was a bastard for this. Lying there, holding her when she had no idea. Taking comfort in her softness.
But I needed it. Just this once.
I let my hand trail down the length of her body, slowly, from her hip to her thigh, back up to her waist. I stopped short of her breasts, but my fingers twitched with the urge to touch their heaviness. She shifted against me, pressing closer, and I bit back a groan.
“Bree,” I murmured into her hair, my voice rough. “Sweet girl”
She sighed in her sleep, and my chest tightened.
I let my mind wander. I had pictured this every night when I was deployed. Bree in my bed. Her belly swollen with my child. My ring on her finger. Her laughter filling this cabin.
A future I had no right to want, but God help me, I wanted it.
I pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing her in. “Just once,” I whispered to myself. “Let me have this. Just once.”
I held her tighter and closed my eyes, knowing I was already too far gone.
Chapter 9: Bree
Iwoke up warm. Too warm, and I wasn’t alone.
My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the window. My head was resting on a firm chest, and an arm was slung securely around my waist. My body was pressed up against Scott’s, his heat seeping into me, making me drowsy and comfortable. Content.
What the hell?
My heart kicked up a notch as reality crashed down. Scott was in bed with me. His face was relaxed in sleep, his usual hard lines softened. He looked younger like this. Peaceful, and so goddamn handsome it made my chest ache.
How did this happen?
Panic flared briefly until flashes of last night came back. The scotch, the couch, me falling asleep on him. He must’ve brought me in here, but that didn’t explain why he was still in bed with me, holding me like I was his.
And that wasn’t even the best part.
I froze as I became acutely aware of the heavy, solid press of his erection against my thigh. Thick, hard, and impossible to ignore.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus.
Heat bloomed low in my belly. My skin tingled, and my breath caught as I shifted slightly, feeling him even more. My body betrayed me, already reacting, warming, aching for him. Thank goodness he was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the war I was having with myself.
But what was a girl to do?
I was far from experienced. Sure, I’d had a few encounters over the years, but nothing like this. Nothing that made me feel like I might combust from just the feel of a man pressed against me. And Scott? He was the kind of man that made women fantasize for a lifetime.
I bit my lip, staring at him. This was dangerous, but I didn’t want to stop.
Tentatively, I let my hand wander under the blanket, fingers brushing along his abdomen where his shirt had twisted up. Hard muscle met my touch, his abs tight beneath my fingertips. I traced lower, following that delicious V that disappeared into his low-slung jeans. My breath deepened as I felt the heat of his skin, seeing the faint lines of tattoos wrapping over his hips.
God, he was built like a dream. Rough and rugged, every inch of him screaming strength and control. My fingertips traced the edge of his waistband, daring to dip lower, but I hesitated. My body was screaming at me to keep going, to feel more, but nerves held me back.
