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“Let me clean you up and then you can sleep here tonight.”
“I won’t run.”
“You fucking won’t,” he mutters. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I don’t even have the strength to reply, my body already relaxing into the mattress. And before he can even return with a washrag to wipe me clean, I’m out.
CHAPTERTWELVE
SKYLAR
I wake up to the sound of Diablo snoring. Small rumbling breaths that turn my lips up. He sounds like a braying donkey.
I shift a little closer to him, my hand splayed across his chest, the thump of his heart making my own wobble in my chest. What an uneven feeling, this sideways obsession.
“Diablo,” I say softly and he snorts in my direction, his hair a complete mess, a crease slashed across his cheek where the pillow must have pressed in.
Those pink lips. Fuck. The ones I kissed last night.
“Diablo,” I say again softly and his eyelids flutter open—just brown irises, the orange flame dulled within.
“Morning,” I say and then lean down and press a kiss to his nose.
It wrinkles, and he rolls his eyes. “None of this lovey-dovey stuff. I don’t do that,” he mutters and then leans up and kisses mine.
It’s sloppy and ends up leaving my nose more wet than anything, but it still draws my lips up into a smile.
“Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t.”
“You hungry?” I ask, and he stares up at me.
“Yep. Go cook for me, Skylar. You are the help after all.”
I reach out and pinch his jaw with my hand, leaning down and pressing a bruising kiss to his lips.
“I’ll be your help, Diablo. Anytime.”
His eyes shift away from mine, and he stares at the wall. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Now go.”
I lean down and nuzzle him slightly, his body shivering against me. He likes this more than he cares to admit. Which is fine. He doesn’t need to say a word. His body betrays him.
Sitting up, I pull on my pajama bottoms and then tug on a shirt. Before I leave my room, I glance back at Diablo who is gazing at me with a dreamy look in his eyes.
Yeah. He can’t fucking hidethateither.
“Don’t say a word or I will cut out your tongue.”
The organ in question slips from my mouth and wets my lips. “Oh, but you like my tongue.”
His cheeks turn a pretty pink and he throws the covers over his head to hide it from me.
“Can’t hide, Diablo. Saw that blush.”
“Fuck you, motherfucker!” he squeaks, and a laugh slips from my lips as I trail out of the bedroom.
As soon as I’m in the kitchen, working on making breakfast, Casey saunters out, looking rumpled and slightly ridiculous. I don’t know how he manages it, but half of his hair is sticking straight out to the side. He doesn’t even seem to notice or care.
