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But my fingers have been replaced by bullets and my heart with death.
So I point my finger at the person lying on top.
BANG!
My eyes open wide, sweat drops rolling down my back and neck as I try to adjust to my surroundings. Blinking a couple of times, I focus on the sights and sounds. I’m in my own bed, in my own room, and the sun is shining. But that smell … it’s musky and tropical, and unlike any perfumes I own.
Then I feel the hand creeping around my waist.
With widened eyes, I turn to come face-to-face with Kai, still lying in my bed, still cuddling me. And for a moment, I just simply stop existing.
“Good morning, kitty,” he mumbles.
I can barely breathe when he’s this close, his lips still as hot as I remember them being.
I thought he’d disappear in the middle of the night as he did before, but he’s still here. Still holding me tight. Still invading every inch of my thoughts.
“You were groaning in your sleep,” he murmurs.
“Oh …” I lower my eyes.
He cups my face to make me look at him. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Oh fuck. He noticed.
“Tell me what it was,” he says.
“I-I…” I’m never one to stammer, but I really don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to speak the words out loud.
His brows twitch. “Is this something that happens often?”
I nod and sit up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He leans up on his elbow, and the blanket that kept us warm slowly drops off both of us, revealing his naked tattooed body, and fuck me, my eyes can’t stop perusing his thick slabs of muscle and that nine-inch dick like I’m shopping for a boy toy.
What is wrong with me?
I shake my head, but the smug grin on his face immediately makes me look down at my own chest. I forgot I was naked too. And he’s definitely ogling my perky breasts, nipples peaking at the thought.
“Oh, I will never get used to the sight of those,” he mumbles.
Grinding my teeth, I get up and march to my cabinet, fishing out some new panties, a fresh pair of jeans, and a short black top.
Kai licks his lips. “Cute. Matches your black soul.”
“Are you getting up?” I ask, trying my best to put on the jeans under his scrutinizing gaze.
“I’d much rather watch you stumble around.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say as I put on the top.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to pounce on me,” I reply.
Big mistake, because the shit-eating grin that follows makes my heart throb in a way I never asked for it to throb.
“Maybe I do.”
