he rolled over or loosened his hold. Plus it had the added benefit of letting me enjoy all
that hardness that battle-ready body pressed against mine. I doubted that I would ever have an opportunity
like it again. The landscape of my sexual experience was pretty barren over the last few years. There had
been a guy here or there, but not one that I had wanted to hang out with for more than a minute and none
could ever compare to the sheer physical perfection of the guy I was trapped under right now.
I sighed in resignation and tried to wiggle a little in order to get some more breathing room. Rome just
tightened his hold even more and settled more fully into me. I relented and wrapped one arm around his
shoulders; they were so wide, so broad, I could barely reach the other side. I put the other hand on his ribs,
right above that healing wound. I kept my eyes on the ceiling and not the clock, figuring he would get
uncomfortable, realize he wasn’t alone anymore, and roll over at any second. Only at some point I heard
the front door open and Ayden’s heels on the floor in the hallway, which meant it was well past two in the
morning and my human blanket hadn’t moved a muscle. I had been pinned to the bed for over two hours,
and it didn’t look like I was getting free before dawn.
Finally I was too tired to just stare at the side of his sleeping face or wonder at all the little nicks and
tiny marks that dotted his skin. This close to him the scar above his eyebrow was really wicked-looking. It
hooked from the arch up into his hairline and spidered off to web across his temple. It looked like he was a
very lucky man to still have a functioning eyeball on that side of his handsome face. There was history
there, a life lived hard and dangerously mapped out across his skin for the entire world to see and judge. It
made Rome an even more difficult man for me to try and figure out, and frankly I was exhausted by all of
it. My last thought before I gave up the fight of trying to wait him out was that not once in all the years
Jimmy and I had shared a bed had he ever held me this close, like he never wanted me to go.
I wasn’t sure what had me stirring awake—if it was the sun coming in the blinds, if it was the feeling of
being covered by an electric blanket in the middle of summer, or if it was the impossible-to-ignore fact that
I wasn’t in my frilly pink bed alone. I squinted against the morning light coming in the room, but all I could
see for days and days was blue. A blue that no words could describe, a blue that was so hot and bright I felt
like it could burn me alive from the inside out. I opened my mouth to ask Rome if he was feeling all right,
to tell him to get the hell off of me, but nothing came out. We just stared at each other and the lack of
clothing between us suddenly became a noticeable thing. I could feel his heart thundering against my own
where our chests were pressed together, could feel his sides rise and fall as he sucked in a breath and let it
out slowly, could feel the hardness of an erection that needed its own zip code press against the softness
between my legs, not protected at all by my tiny sleep shorts. This was a compromising situation to be in
any way you looked at it, and considering we were practically strangers, my normally nimble tongue was
having a hard time finding its defenses.
His hand that was holding on to my butt gave the cheek a squeeze and I thought he was going to lever
himself up and off of me, but he didn’t. He used the other hand to hold his considerable bulk up off of me
for the first time in hours and his free hand lifted and I went frozen still as he used it to oh so gently trace
the curve of my bottom lip where my mouth was still hanging open like a dimwit. Hands that big, that
rough, shouldn’t be capable of being so reverent, so delicate. It made me gasp.
I should say something. He should say something. Neither of us did, though, and
that hardness that battle-ready body pressed against mine. I doubted that I would ever have an opportunity
like it again. The landscape of my sexual experience was pretty barren over the last few years. There had
been a guy here or there, but not one that I had wanted to hang out with for more than a minute and none
could ever compare to the sheer physical perfection of the guy I was trapped under right now.
I sighed in resignation and tried to wiggle a little in order to get some more breathing room. Rome just
tightened his hold even more and settled more fully into me. I relented and wrapped one arm around his
shoulders; they were so wide, so broad, I could barely reach the other side. I put the other hand on his ribs,
right above that healing wound. I kept my eyes on the ceiling and not the clock, figuring he would get
uncomfortable, realize he wasn’t alone anymore, and roll over at any second. Only at some point I heard
the front door open and Ayden’s heels on the floor in the hallway, which meant it was well past two in the
morning and my human blanket hadn’t moved a muscle. I had been pinned to the bed for over two hours,
and it didn’t look like I was getting free before dawn.
Finally I was too tired to just stare at the side of his sleeping face or wonder at all the little nicks and
tiny marks that dotted his skin. This close to him the scar above his eyebrow was really wicked-looking. It
hooked from the arch up into his hairline and spidered off to web across his temple. It looked like he was a
very lucky man to still have a functioning eyeball on that side of his handsome face. There was history
there, a life lived hard and dangerously mapped out across his skin for the entire world to see and judge. It
made Rome an even more difficult man for me to try and figure out, and frankly I was exhausted by all of
it. My last thought before I gave up the fight of trying to wait him out was that not once in all the years
Jimmy and I had shared a bed had he ever held me this close, like he never wanted me to go.
I wasn’t sure what had me stirring awake—if it was the sun coming in the blinds, if it was the feeling of
being covered by an electric blanket in the middle of summer, or if it was the impossible-to-ignore fact that
I wasn’t in my frilly pink bed alone. I squinted against the morning light coming in the room, but all I could
see for days and days was blue. A blue that no words could describe, a blue that was so hot and bright I felt
like it could burn me alive from the inside out. I opened my mouth to ask Rome if he was feeling all right,
to tell him to get the hell off of me, but nothing came out. We just stared at each other and the lack of
clothing between us suddenly became a noticeable thing. I could feel his heart thundering against my own
where our chests were pressed together, could feel his sides rise and fall as he sucked in a breath and let it
out slowly, could feel the hardness of an erection that needed its own zip code press against the softness
between my legs, not protected at all by my tiny sleep shorts. This was a compromising situation to be in
any way you looked at it, and considering we were practically strangers, my normally nimble tongue was
having a hard time finding its defenses.
His hand that was holding on to my butt gave the cheek a squeeze and I thought he was going to lever
himself up and off of me, but he didn’t. He used the other hand to hold his considerable bulk up off of me
for the first time in hours and his free hand lifted and I went frozen still as he used it to oh so gently trace
the curve of my bottom lip where my mouth was still hanging open like a dimwit. Hands that big, that
rough, shouldn’t be capable of being so reverent, so delicate. It made me gasp.
I should say something. He should say something. Neither of us did, though, and
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