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Which is even scarier when I think about it.
I’m too tired to analyze what it all means.
Later.
Mindlessly, I drag my fingers along his spine, savoring his weight pressing me into the leather cushions. I feel like I’m in a cocoon. Protected. Safe. Safer than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
As I slowly come back down to Earth, I cover my face with my arm and mutter, “You win.”
Mack lifts himself into a half push-up and looks down at me, a question in his baby blues, though he doesn’t say a word.
“Apparently, I need to start reading romance,” I clarify.
With a dry laugh, he lifts himself up the rest of the way, and his softening erection slips out of me.
“Stay here,” he orders. “I’ll grab a towel so I can clean you up.”
“Clean me up?” My brow cocks. “Is this also in the How to be an Awesome Guy 101 course?”
“Maybe.” He drops another kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be back.”
His tight ass makes me smile shamelessly as I check him out while he heads to the bathroom and returns with a towel. Once I’m cleaned up and have taken care of business, Mack tugs me against him, grabs the remote, and turns on a documentary all because I said I like them.
Snuggling against his bare chest, a single word crosses my mind.
Swoon.
* * *
An hour later,my eyelids are heavy, and I catch myself falling asleep. The documentary’s over. At least, I think it is. I peel my eyes open, seeing Netflix’s home screen. The glow from the television and fireplace light up the dark family room. But the kitchen and the hallway are blanketed in shadows.
What time is it?
My muscles are deliciously sore as I shift slightly against Mack’s bare chest, attempting to wake up. But I don’t want to move. I want to stay in his arms and sleep the night away.
And I might…afterI take my medicine.
“What time do you need to take your med?” he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
I smile against his chest. “Usually around ten. What time is it?”
The light from his Apple watch glows in the dark room as he lifts his wrist and looks at the time. “9:55.”
“Guess I should get it then.” With a quiet groan, I push myself up, but Mack tightens his arms around me.
“Where is it? I’ll get it for you.”
“You don’t have to––”
“Stay,” he orders, slipping from beneath me. Once he’s on his feet, he repeats, “Where is it?”
“Backpack. Side pouch.”
Stretching my arms over my head, I yawn on the couch while listening to Mack’s bare feet padding across the hardwood floor. With a little orange bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other, he rounds the edge of the couch a minute later and sits on the coffee table across from me.
“Here.” The cap comes off with a soft pop, and he hands me a single pill.
“Thanks.” It glides down my throat with ease as I take a sip of water, watching him rummage through my pants on the ground.
