to bed. I must be dreaming. And no way is Colin in my room calling me sweet cheeks . I mean, what the hell?
“Jennifer Lynn Cade.” He gives my shoulder a shake and I shrug his hand off, totally aware of the heat from his touch on my skin. “If we want to make it to Sacramento at a decent hour, you need to get up and get ready.”
Okay. Something is definitely wrong with this picture. First, Colin is most definitely in my room. Usually I’m the one in his room trying to wake him up from yet another terrible dream that tends to send him deeper into this downward spiral of self-hatred.
Second, Colin sounds downright affectionate. What the hell?
“Lazy,” he murmurs just before he slaps—yes, slaps —my ass. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Let’s do this.”
I scooch my sweet cheeks away from where I can feel him sitting on my bed. Cracking my eyes open, I find him right next to me, wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and chest in the yummiest way. The man is as big as a mountain and I’m ready to climb him. “Did you just call me what I think you called me?”
He smiles, and it’s like a billion tiny daggers straight to my heart. I can practically feel it cracking in my chest, he’s so damn beautiful. “Considering your ass is hanging out of those tiny shorts you’re wearing at the moment, I think I can say on proper authority that your cheeks are pretty damn sweet.”
“Oh my God.” The cheeks on my face are so hot my skin feels like it’s going to catch fire as I jerk the blankets back over me. I didn’t even realize I was only half-covered by the comforter and that he could see the tiny shorts I wear to bed. Sans panties.
How freaking mortifying!
His mood doesn’t fit. Lately he’s been so somber and sullen and Mister Downer, I’m surprised to see the smile still pasted to his face. I shouldn’t say “pasted” because it looks genuine and I have to admit, I like seeing it. I like seeing him happy and carefree. It reminds me of the past, before all this heavy, awful shit happened.
“Like I haven’t seen your ass before.” He stands and stretches, lifting his arms high above his head, making a rough sound in the back of his throat that’s undeniably sexy. His shirt rises with the movement, offering a glimpse of his flat, toned stomach, and I’m filled with the urge to lick him there.
God bless America, what is wrong with me? I’m sitting here gaping at him like some sort of shell-shocked war victim. I can’t think about licking Colin’s perfect abs. I need to concentrate on getting the hell out of here before I do something incredibly stupid.
Like, you know, attempt to lick Colin’s abs.
“You’ve got ten minutes to get those sweet cheeks into the shower and get ready. Then we’re hitting the road,” he commands as he drops his arms to his sides, his voice full of that aggressive authority I would never admit arouses me like nothing else.
Sometimes I really love it when he bosses me around.
“Hitting the road where?” I ask, my gaze following his right hand. It reaches beneath his shirt, scratching his belly lazily, lifting the hem so I catch another peek of all that tempting skin. Dark golden hair trails from beneath his navel, a path that, yep, I want to follow with my tongue. See where it takes me.
Hmm, I know exactly where it’ll take me and I so want to go there.
Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head hard as hell against the headboard, irritated with my train of thought. Am I horny? Was I having an amazingly realistic sex dream, or what? Having him here in my room, on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about him. What I’d like to do to him. Naked. With my mouth and my tongue and my . . .
“I’m driving you to Sacramento, remember?”
I open my eyes to find him watching me, one brow cocked, his hands on his hips. He looks . . . gorgeous. Good enough to eat. Irritated with me, too—I can see it in his pretty crystal-blue
“Jennifer Lynn Cade.” He gives my shoulder a shake and I shrug his hand off, totally aware of the heat from his touch on my skin. “If we want to make it to Sacramento at a decent hour, you need to get up and get ready.”
Okay. Something is definitely wrong with this picture. First, Colin is most definitely in my room. Usually I’m the one in his room trying to wake him up from yet another terrible dream that tends to send him deeper into this downward spiral of self-hatred.
Second, Colin sounds downright affectionate. What the hell?
“Lazy,” he murmurs just before he slaps—yes, slaps —my ass. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Let’s do this.”
I scooch my sweet cheeks away from where I can feel him sitting on my bed. Cracking my eyes open, I find him right next to me, wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and chest in the yummiest way. The man is as big as a mountain and I’m ready to climb him. “Did you just call me what I think you called me?”
He smiles, and it’s like a billion tiny daggers straight to my heart. I can practically feel it cracking in my chest, he’s so damn beautiful. “Considering your ass is hanging out of those tiny shorts you’re wearing at the moment, I think I can say on proper authority that your cheeks are pretty damn sweet.”
“Oh my God.” The cheeks on my face are so hot my skin feels like it’s going to catch fire as I jerk the blankets back over me. I didn’t even realize I was only half-covered by the comforter and that he could see the tiny shorts I wear to bed. Sans panties.
How freaking mortifying!
His mood doesn’t fit. Lately he’s been so somber and sullen and Mister Downer, I’m surprised to see the smile still pasted to his face. I shouldn’t say “pasted” because it looks genuine and I have to admit, I like seeing it. I like seeing him happy and carefree. It reminds me of the past, before all this heavy, awful shit happened.
“Like I haven’t seen your ass before.” He stands and stretches, lifting his arms high above his head, making a rough sound in the back of his throat that’s undeniably sexy. His shirt rises with the movement, offering a glimpse of his flat, toned stomach, and I’m filled with the urge to lick him there.
God bless America, what is wrong with me? I’m sitting here gaping at him like some sort of shell-shocked war victim. I can’t think about licking Colin’s perfect abs. I need to concentrate on getting the hell out of here before I do something incredibly stupid.
Like, you know, attempt to lick Colin’s abs.
“You’ve got ten minutes to get those sweet cheeks into the shower and get ready. Then we’re hitting the road,” he commands as he drops his arms to his sides, his voice full of that aggressive authority I would never admit arouses me like nothing else.
Sometimes I really love it when he bosses me around.
“Hitting the road where?” I ask, my gaze following his right hand. It reaches beneath his shirt, scratching his belly lazily, lifting the hem so I catch another peek of all that tempting skin. Dark golden hair trails from beneath his navel, a path that, yep, I want to follow with my tongue. See where it takes me.
Hmm, I know exactly where it’ll take me and I so want to go there.
Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head hard as hell against the headboard, irritated with my train of thought. Am I horny? Was I having an amazingly realistic sex dream, or what? Having him here in my room, on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about him. What I’d like to do to him. Naked. With my mouth and my tongue and my . . .
“I’m driving you to Sacramento, remember?”
I open my eyes to find him watching me, one brow cocked, his hands on his hips. He looks . . . gorgeous. Good enough to eat. Irritated with me, too—I can see it in his pretty crystal-blue
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