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As tipsy as he is, Cash is still polite and ducks out to change.
I hear the rustle of the towel hitting the laundry basket. His voice echoes in the main room, “You can’t look at me in your underwear if I can’t see your pajamas,” he says.
“Deal!” I exclaim, cutting off the nightstand light.
The bed creaks under the weight of him, and our arms and hands touch as he goes searching for the blankets while I, at the same time, try to lower the blankets and sheets for him.
Despite our fumbling in the dark, we settle in. Cash’s long, masculine groan does crazy things to my lady parts.
“Long day at work, honey?” I tease.
“Hmm. Cuddle time,” he says, tangling our legs together and pulling me to him. My head rests on his bicep, and his other arm wraps around my ribs. I feel warm and cozy and tingly everywhere. My heart races, and a drunken smile is permanently pasted on my lips.
I sigh, “This is better than you hating me.”
He scoffs, “I don’t hate you.”
“You acted like it since the minute we met.”
He presses a kiss on my forehead. His voice rumbles against my temple, provoking such a powerful response in me that my nipples ache. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re hot when you’re annoyed with me.”
“Caroline, don’t start with the romance hero thing.”
“I literally never stopped the romance hero thing.”
“Then I’ll have to kiss you and scramble your brain,” he growls, angling his face over mine for another kiss. I sigh and revel in his demanding tongue against mine, and in the feel of his fingers digging into my hips.
“Cash,” I breathe, brushing my lips back and forth against his. “Your kiss is so nice.”
“Nice?”
“I would say it’s making my panties wet, but that kind of talk only makes me want to do things we’ll regret.”
“You think I won’t regret wearing your panties?” Cash asks.
I am wheezing with laughter. Yep. Still drunk.
“Speaking of secrets, why can’t I see your pajamas?”
“Because you can’t.”
“Come on,” he urges.
“I don’t want a potential boyfriend to see the rattiest shirt known to mankind, and that be the first thing he sees me wearing in bed.”
Cash’s hand travels down the outside of my thigh, gently massaging the muscle there, and I swoon at how good that feels. “Potential boyfriend, eh?”
“Cash…”
“You know I’m not going to be able to get to sleep tonight if you don’t show me. And I’ve already been awake for 24 hours. I won’t laugh, I promise.”
I’m going to do this, aren’t I? All this effort with hair, makeup, and cute outfits, and this man is about to look at my favorite pajamas.
“Fine,” I sigh, starting to disentangle myself from Cash to reach over and turn on the nightstand lamp. But his gentle hand on my thigh squeezes, and he whispers, “I got it, don’t move.”
Such a simple gesture but so thoughtful of him. Cash’s torso, hovering above me, affords me a quick inhale of his crazy-good scent. How thoughtful, indeed.
