“NO!” I hissed, as Harun grabbed the phone once more and stood up. “Where are you goi— No . . . no . . .” I watched in horror. Absolute, shocking horror as he walked all the way up to Mark and then carefully, gently, placed the phone right on his . . .
I inhaled sharply and froze like a damn statue. I waited for Mark to wake up, only he didn’t. How could he not have woken up? He now had a cell phone perched perfectly on one of his round and pert and,oh soooo round. . . I was almost breathless looking at it now. The phone was wobbling slightly on it, and the movement mesmerized me, especially because it was glowing and the light was casting all kinds of interesting dark and light shapes across the smooth and soft-looking planes of his ass.
Oh God!
I shielded my eyes! This time my hands did do the appropriate thing as he shifted his position, bending one of his legs in a way that made me see,Oh God, his balls! There they bloody were, squished and funny-looking under the weight of his body, just peeping out a little bit from between his legs, like a rabbit peeping out from inside its burrow. Surprisingly, the phone hadn’t fallen off him. In fact, the whole thing was now in an even worse position: it had kind of slipped into the middle, and was balancing in between the two mounds, if you get my drift here. I hoped he didn’t clench or something terrible like that.
I hung my head, torn between desperately wanting to look (for reasons I’m not proud of), but knowing that looking was so, terribly, terribly inappropriate. The kind of inappropriate that you could never tell a soul about, not even your best friend—“the other night I watched a guy sleeping naked” just sounded so wrong. I waited like that for a few more moments, head still lowered, and tried to decide what to do. I really did need my phone, and if I didn’t take it, Mark would have some serious questions when he woke up in the morning, like: how did a phone get lodged between my ass cheeks in the middle of the night? Not an easy question to answer, really. I looked at Harun.
“I’m gonna kill you for this,” I mouthed.
I weighed up my options; as far as I could tell, I really only had one. I needed to retrieve the phone and then get Harun and me out of there before Mark saw us. So, still on my hands and knees, I crept towards the sleeping Mark. I crept slowly, shuffling as silently as I could across the boards, my knees starting to feel the burn of it. I was not designed for sneaking and creeping like this and trust me, I felt utterly absurd doing it.
I reached the daybed and stopped. I was trying to breathe as softly as possible but my nerves were making that quite difficult. The phone (and his ass) was so close now, and I started reaching out for them . . . I mean IT! I was reaching for it. My phone. Nothing else.
My hand moved in slow motion through the air, getting closer and closer to him. I was trying to move as slowly as possible, and despite the fact that I have good upper body strength, the muscles in my arm were quivering. I bit my lip in concentration as my fingers finally connected with the oh-so familiar curves of my metal phone. I paused and took a moment before pulling it, but then—
“WOOF!” The ear-shattering sound of a deep, bellowing bark made me scream, flap, drop the phone, fall backwards and—
“OUUCHHH!” I wailed in pain as my face connected with Mark’s as he woke up with a big jolt and jumped. We both scrambled to our feet and,Oh shit!
My eyes drifted down. I wondered if he realized that he was completely naked. Probably not, because if he had realized, he would have at least cupped his junk, so to speak. But he hadn’t.
I willed my eyes to look away; they had been lurking down there for far too long. I moved them up his torso, surprisingly muscular. Small muscles. Cut and defined ones. Not big gym ones. And then I looked at his face and gasped.
CHAPTER 49
“Blood!” I said, pointing at Mark’s face.
“What?” he asked, his hooded, sleepy eyes going big and wide and bright. Clearly, he still hadn’t realized he was naked. How do you not notice that?
“Your nose is bleeding,” I said, indicating it.
He touched his nose and pulled his fingers away. The tips were stained red and when he looked at them, the color drained from his face. He went as white as a cotton sheet.
“Oh crap . . .” He stared at his fingers.
“What?” I asked. Sweat beads were forming on his forehead and his lips had gone a ghostly white.
“I kind of don’t like blood,” he said, in a voice that was weak and shaky. “It always makes me want to fainnnnnnnnn . . .”
“Oh my God!” I jumped up as Mark wobbled on his legs. Moving his weight from one foot to the other. His arms were reaching out for something to grab onto as he started to topple over.
“GOT YOU!” I yelled, rushing up to him, grabbing him around the waist. But he was heavy, and his body was sinking and . . .” Okaaaay, maybe I don’t quite have you,” I said, heaving and breathing loudly as I tried to hold him up. But his weight was pulling me down and I couldn’t fight it. My legs were doing the splits dangerously as we both sort of slithered down to the floor slowly.
“Oh crap!” We were both on the floor now. Mark on top of me, me with my legs wide open, him in between. So inappropriate! #AwksAF
Why was I making hashtags in my head? #wtf
“Um . . .” I mumbled, against his chest. “You okay?”
I felt him take a big breath, and then heard him clear his throat as he peeled himself off me and into a sitting position. I quickly closed my very open legs.
“Fine. Sorry. Fine,” Mark said, looking embarrassed. His once white cheeks were now flushed a bright shade of red, and he still had a little bit of blood trickling from his nose. I still couldn’t tell if he hadn’t realized he was naked, or if he just didn’t care. But he was making no effort to cover the thing. I tried not to look. But it was hard. Wait . . . it wasn’thard. He wasn’t hard, well, I hoped not. What I mean is, it was hard not to look. Not . . .Oh crap, why couldn’t I stop saying the word “hard” in my head?
And that’s when it looked like he finally,finallygot it. Because there was such a fast scurry happening now, I could see it out of the corner of my eye. There was jumping, and cushions went flying and a blanket flapped in the air before he wrapped it around himself. Once the activity was all over, a deathly silence settled between us. It went on for ages, until he finally broke it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, sounding angry and accusatory.
