know you. Why the fuck would I give you a key?”
“As I recall, I got to know you pretty well earlier this evening. If you need me to prove it, I would be happy to show you how well I know you. Now can we move past this so we can go to sleep? I’m really fucking tired.” He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks. He unbuckled his belt, lowering his black jeans to the ground.
He stood in just his black t-shirt and his black boxer shorts. My heart started racing. And then he pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it haphazardly on top of his jeans.
If my heart was beating wildly before, I wasn’t sure what this was. I was seconds away from cardiac arrest or something.
He was tall and lean, but he hid some serious muscles beneath those clothes. Google hadn’t done him justice. His abdomen was a perfect six pack of carved muscles, and his arms and chest looked strong without being bulky.
In a word, he was perfect.
He had ink on his smooth skin. From where I sat up in bed, I could make out a Tiger with some tribal designs on his bicep. A snake wound its way across his chest and onto his torso, and a series of words that I couldn’t read from my position were written down his entire right side. There were other designs—flowers and words and artwork—but the ferocity of the tiger was what called out to me. His left arm was bare.
The art made him different. Beautiful. He stood apart from the rest because of the intricate designs he placed permanently on his body.
I itched to know the meaning behind every needle that had ever prodded his skin.
My mouth watered as I gazed at his perfect physique.
“You can stop staring any time,” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t have a body like that and take off your shirt if you don’t want me to look.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. Turn off the light.”
I shook my head. If I turned off the light, the view would disappear. I wasn’t ready for that.
He walked around and settled in on the empty side of my bed, sliding his feet under the blanket.
I watched his every move, studying him and learning him.
I was suddenly wide awake.
I had a man in my bed—a very sexy man, by the way—who wanted to just go to sleep?
It was late. He was tired. I’d had a few hours of sleep and I was somewhat lucid.
I sighed as I leaned over and turned out the light. He reached for me and pulled me toward him. My body fit perfectly against his, and even though I didn’t want to go to sleep, I had to resist his temptation for the night.
sixteen
I woke up alone in bed the next morning.
Dreams are funny things. They could mean nothing. They could mean everything.
They can stay with you all day and make you feel warm and lighthearted.
They can stay with you all day and make you feel guilty and shameful.
Or they can fuck with your mind to the point where you aren’t sure what the hell to believe anymore.
I glanced over at the clock. It was a little before nine. I had two hours before I needed to be at work.
The other side of my bed was virtually untouched. Smooth.
I checked my nightstand. The remote was in place where I’d left it. It wasn’t on the floor where it had fallen after I’d thrown it at my intruder.
The fear from the night before had felt so real, but it had all been nothing more than a really vivid dream.
I really needed to stop taking my sleep medication.
I finally got up and fixed myself some breakfast, and then I took a shower. By the time I looked at the clock, I realized how late it was. I had to be at work in less than twenty minutes, and it was usually a solid twenty-five minute drive.
I let my hair air dry as I rushed to my car and sped the whole way to Vintage.
When I pulled onto the street where Vintage stood, I saw the flashing lights of police cars. As I slowly approached the store, I found that the lights were parked in front of my store.
I typically parked in back, but that day I was too scared to drive around to the back. I had to know
“As I recall, I got to know you pretty well earlier this evening. If you need me to prove it, I would be happy to show you how well I know you. Now can we move past this so we can go to sleep? I’m really fucking tired.” He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks. He unbuckled his belt, lowering his black jeans to the ground.
He stood in just his black t-shirt and his black boxer shorts. My heart started racing. And then he pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it haphazardly on top of his jeans.
If my heart was beating wildly before, I wasn’t sure what this was. I was seconds away from cardiac arrest or something.
He was tall and lean, but he hid some serious muscles beneath those clothes. Google hadn’t done him justice. His abdomen was a perfect six pack of carved muscles, and his arms and chest looked strong without being bulky.
In a word, he was perfect.
He had ink on his smooth skin. From where I sat up in bed, I could make out a Tiger with some tribal designs on his bicep. A snake wound its way across his chest and onto his torso, and a series of words that I couldn’t read from my position were written down his entire right side. There were other designs—flowers and words and artwork—but the ferocity of the tiger was what called out to me. His left arm was bare.
The art made him different. Beautiful. He stood apart from the rest because of the intricate designs he placed permanently on his body.
I itched to know the meaning behind every needle that had ever prodded his skin.
My mouth watered as I gazed at his perfect physique.
“You can stop staring any time,” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t have a body like that and take off your shirt if you don’t want me to look.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. Turn off the light.”
I shook my head. If I turned off the light, the view would disappear. I wasn’t ready for that.
He walked around and settled in on the empty side of my bed, sliding his feet under the blanket.
I watched his every move, studying him and learning him.
I was suddenly wide awake.
I had a man in my bed—a very sexy man, by the way—who wanted to just go to sleep?
It was late. He was tired. I’d had a few hours of sleep and I was somewhat lucid.
I sighed as I leaned over and turned out the light. He reached for me and pulled me toward him. My body fit perfectly against his, and even though I didn’t want to go to sleep, I had to resist his temptation for the night.
sixteen
I woke up alone in bed the next morning.
Dreams are funny things. They could mean nothing. They could mean everything.
They can stay with you all day and make you feel warm and lighthearted.
They can stay with you all day and make you feel guilty and shameful.
Or they can fuck with your mind to the point where you aren’t sure what the hell to believe anymore.
I glanced over at the clock. It was a little before nine. I had two hours before I needed to be at work.
The other side of my bed was virtually untouched. Smooth.
I checked my nightstand. The remote was in place where I’d left it. It wasn’t on the floor where it had fallen after I’d thrown it at my intruder.
The fear from the night before had felt so real, but it had all been nothing more than a really vivid dream.
I really needed to stop taking my sleep medication.
I finally got up and fixed myself some breakfast, and then I took a shower. By the time I looked at the clock, I realized how late it was. I had to be at work in less than twenty minutes, and it was usually a solid twenty-five minute drive.
I let my hair air dry as I rushed to my car and sped the whole way to Vintage.
When I pulled onto the street where Vintage stood, I saw the flashing lights of police cars. As I slowly approached the store, I found that the lights were parked in front of my store.
I typically parked in back, but that day I was too scared to drive around to the back. I had to know
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