I leap over the back of the couch and settle in beside her.
“Give me some blanket.”
She huffs but slides some of the quilt my way. “You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine, you got it?”
This feels like a famous last words kind of moment, but damn if I don’t agree anyway. “Got it, Princess.”
Fuuuuuck.I push my hips forward ever so slightly, loving the way her plush ass feels against my rock-hard dick—like the most tantalizing and toxic form of temptation all at once.
I may fucking hate her, but the feel of her body pressed into mine is… delicious.
I run my fingertips over the exposed skin of her stomach, wondering just how far this little fantasy will go before I inevitably wake up. Because, as ashamed as I am to admit it, this is one of my favorite dreams.
“Feel so good, Princess,” I murmur, torn between trailing up toward her perfect breasts or down toward her pussy.
She shifts against me, moaning softly.
Fuck yes.
The baby monitor crackles.
Wait. Rewind that back…Baby monitor?
I freeze, eyes flying open as reality crashes down around me like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. This isnota dream.
I’m actually sleeping on my best friend's pull-out couch with one hand on her exposed stomach, fingers dangerously close to her waistband and my rock-hard cock nestled between her ass cheeks like it’s trying to make itself a home there.
So much for staying on my side of the bed last night.
I disentangle myself from her as discreetly as possible, slowly sliding my arm from beneath her before rolling to my back. A part of me instantly misses her warmth, but that’s a secret I’ll never tell.
Along with the fact that last night might just have been the best fucking sleep of my life. My expectations were low—I’m talking through-the-floor low. Two grown-ass adults on a couch bed isn’t exactly the recipe for peaceful slumber.
But somehow, having her tucked into my side lulled me into the deepest, most relaxing sleep of my life, even with James fussing on and off through the night.
Not to mention, I can’t shake the way her soft skin felt against my callused fingertips, or the way she fit so perfectly against me.Like she was meant to be there.
Nope. Absurd. Absolutely the fuck not. Clearly, I need caffeine. And maybe a cold shower.
My so-called objections are weaker than gas station coffee, seeing as I make no move to actually leave the couch.
Instead, I find myself lingering, watching her like a total weirdo. I can’t help it though. It’s not my fault she looks…sweetwhen she sleeps. Less like Satan and more like an angel. Different sides of the same coin, I suppose.
I can only imagine how insufferable she’d be if she knew the thoughts racing through my head.
“Get a grip,” I mutter, forcing myself up into a seated position, doing my best not to jostle her.
My efforts are in vain. Her eyes snap open the second I move.
“What?” she asks, immediately awake and alert. “What is it? Is James awake?”
“He’s fine, Princess.” I curl my fingers into a fist to stop myself brushing her hair away from her face. “Hasn’t made a peep.”
Her shoulders relax as she looks around the room, as if taking stock of it for the first time. A part of me hopes she won't notice how close we are to one another. But the way her dark eyes widen blows that hope to smithereens.
She stammers, looking up at me with wide eyes, every bit as unsure of how to handle the situation as I am. It’s safe to say we’re in uncharted territory.
Because, while her ass may no longer be pressed against my groin, we’re still close enough that a sheet of paper would struggle to fit between us.
