Page 37 of Cop Daddy Next Door


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I waved off his praise and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers practically up to my chin. I didn’t get what my deal was. Normally, I wasn’t shy sexually. And I hadn’t been earlier either. But I was still so unnerved by the risk I’d taken, I just couldn’t get to that place again in my mind. I wasn’t sure I could even if he double-bagged.

Not until I understood how I’d acted so impulsively in the first place.

He grabbed the now empty plates and pizza box and set them on the floor, and then he got back in bed. But he didn’t slip under the covers. Instead he stretched out beside me with his head on his palm, close but not too close. At some point, he jerked upright after his arm started to droop, so I brushed a hand over his soft, thick hair and nudged him toward my lap. With a sheet and a light comforter between us, it seemed safe to cradle him there, especially when he immediately drifted off to sleep.

I took advantage of the moment to sketch my fingers over the sharp blade of his nose and his full lips, keeping the pressure almost nonexistent so I didn’t wake him. He was sleeping so soundly that I didn’t think he would’ve noticed if I’d pinched him.

Clearly, he needed his rest.

Poor guy. Finally wore himself out enough to get some sleep. Sex did have its benefits, that was for sure.

Even if it scared you shitless afterward.

EIGHT

I woke in her arms,not the other way around.

Her small arm coiled around my waist from behind, and as soon as I shifted, I realized her face was tucked tightly against my neck. I wasn’t sure how she could breathe.

I was definitely having issues with breathing all of a sudden too. Her firm breasts pressed against my back, and she’d slipped her leg between mine so I could feel the full length of her against me. Her skin shouldn’t have beenthatsilky.

And she smelled so good. No wonder I’d dreamed of the beach. All she needed was some cocoa butter lotion to complete the theme.

Parts of me really, really liked this situation. But I was ignoring those parts.

Rolling my shoulders, I took stock.

I felt…good, as if I’d actually gotten some decent sleep. My eyes weren’t gritty, and my head didn’t ache. Which meant this was already a much better day than the rest of the week had been.

Minus last evening before I’d started to second-guess my behavior. Encouraged down that path by Christian Masterson, of all people. What did he know? He’d been single for years, according to town scuttlebutt.

But my gut said I’d messed up with Van in any case.

She expected the worst from men. I wanted to show her we weren’t all pigs. Even if I’d acted that way from the jump.

First, with my stupid sex dare, then by mauling her as if I’d just gotten out of prison. Never mind the whole lack of adequate foreplay the very first time we were together.

It didn’t even matter that she’d come. She deserved better. The real question was how to convince her of that without scaring her away.

Since even candles posed a threat to her, I couldn’t ask her out on an actual date. The mere thought of such a thing had never occurred to me before right now, but then again, I’d never been inside her before last night.

I’d never spent a whole night with her laughing and eating pizza and sleeping so much better because she was beside me than I would have if I was alone.

I’d never smelled her hair against my face. Never tasted her sweet lips. Never had her worry about me or defend me or wordlessly soothe me by rubbing my arm as I tensed up.

Or had her help me off to sleep by nudging my head into her lap. And not even for salacious purposes.

Or possibly get knocked up with your baby, assuming she doesn’t head it off at the pass.

That was entirely her right. I’d told her my feelings on the subject—ones I fully didn’t even understand myself—so now the ball was in her court.

Whatever she decided, I’d accept it.

Besides, Cove or not, it was highly unlikely she’d get pregnant the first time we were together. Superstition was one thing, but I wasn’t the kind of man who avoided crossing in the path of black cats. I’d be more likely to adopt one.

Shit, I really had to pee. I’d been motionless for hours—

I leaned up to see Brady’s clock. No way. 11:30?

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