Page 52 of Savage Don

Bending down beside him, I click the key into place and turn. When I do, the bed frame shifts and the slides open.

Immediately, I spot my backpack.

Ripping it out, I feel the reassuring weight of my laptop inside. But I also feel something else—and it’s not just the heavy heat of Ray’s muscular body.

Something shifts inside the hidden compartment. Looking into the darkness, I spot what looks like a finely carved wooden box sitting beneath the bed. Two of them, actually.

“What’s in there?” I ask, intensely curious, if not a little frightened. What does a man like Ray Byrne keep stashed away under his bed?

“I’ll tell you,” he teases. “But first, I want to know something about you.”

“What?” I gulp, ready for the worst.

“Where do you keep your other textbooks?”

“… What?”

The innocence of the question catches me off guard.

“Yesterday, you dropped about three textbooks when you spotted me on campus. In total, you must have more than that—you know, for other classes. Where do you keep them? In your bedroom?”

“No,” I respond, shaking my head, still perplexed. “I hide them on campus, or on the routes I take to school.”

That makes Ray smile. And his smile makes my heavy heart flutter.

“Clever.”

“Now, you tell me: what’s in those boxes?”

Ray’s smile only gets wider. God, his blood red lips are so tempting that I could almost forget all about my laptop. Hell, I can’t help but wonder what that stubble would feel like brushing between my thighs…

“Dirty, filthy things, kitten,” Ray says, shutting the secret compartment. “Trust me when I say it’s too soon for those types things. Like you said, a good night’s rest is what’s best for you tonight.”

“You won’t just tell me?”

“When you find out what’s in there, it will be because we’re using it.”

The implication in his voice fills my core with a warm pressure that threatens to make me swear off sleep. I can already feel myself getting wet.

Is he teasing me, or is he preparing me?

Fuck.

Either way, I’m about to get used.

And part of me can’t fucking wait for it.

11

Ray

Francesca gets the night off, but that doesn’t mean she leaves my mind for a single second.

Sure, part of her ever-present pull comes from the fact that I forced myself to sleep next to her, but I have a feeling that even if we were worlds apart, I’d still be unable to push her away.

After all, this Alaskan king mattress is big enough to fit a whole harem. Yet I can still smell that vanilla scent of hers, floating from the other side of the bed.

She’s invaded my senses.