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June’s breath hitched.
I ground my teeth together.Don’t you dare, June. Stop looking at me like that.
I moved up to her ribs, and she let out a little sound, barely noticeable, but its source was undeniably lusty. As I worked around her ribs to her back, over her shirt and to her collarbone, she leaned into me, gusting out a low moan.
Crap.
Seven
June
Ismacked a dry mouth around my tongue, waking groggily to the sound of a phone alarm somewhere in my room. My head pulsed with a painful beat that slammed in rhythm with the grating alarm tone.
I hated that alarm sound. I never used it.
I flopped a hand around, searching for my phone. My hand connected with someone’s face. “Nnrg,” a male voice groaned, vibrating into my chest through the mattress. Someone grabbed my wrist and shoved it back down to my side.
I peeled my eyes open with hazy confusion. “What?” I croaked.
Still holding my hand against my hip, Amos Brady lifted his head from a downy white pillow and peered at me, squinting his eyes against the daylight. “Stop hitting me, Matthews.”
I gasped, sitting up so fast, I banged my head against the wrought iron headboard.
“Christ, June,” Amos grated out, pressing his hands to my skull as stars danced in my vision. He massaged the place I had whacked. “Chill.”
I pushed his hands away from my head, my jaw slack. “What the fuck? What are you doing in my room?” I looked around, disoriented.
“Language,” he mumbled, but for once, he didn’t really sound like he meant it, and rolled over inmybed to inhale deeply, stretch, and pull one ofmypillows over his face.
I yanked the pillow back. “Get out of my room, you perv.”
He glared, his hair perfectly disorderly and a dark five o’clock shadow sweeping along his sharp jaw. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and as he propped himself up on his elbow, I watched in dazed fascination as his pecs and arms did a tasty ripple thing. His smug smile told me he had noticed me ogling.
I blinked hard and pressed the heels of my palms against my temples. “I’m so confused.”
“How much do you remember, Monet?” he asked, pulling his earlier nickname for me out of a top hat.
Horror drained the blood from my face. “No,” I breathed, drawing my knees to my chest and angling away from him. “No, we didn’t.”
He raised two perfectly straight, dark eyebrows. “Didn’twhat?”
“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head and starting to back out of the bed. “No way. No. Absolutely not.”
He watched me with a placid smile.
There is no way I lost my virginity to Amos Brady and forgot about it.“Fuck no. Brady, stop messing with me. I’m not kidding.”
He grabbed my ankle and dragged me across the bed back to him. I ended up on my back, laid out along his side while he towered over me, still holding his weight on one elbow. He squished my cheeks together. “Stop. Cursing.”
“Fuck you,” I said through scrunched lips.
His eyes traveled over my features, one brow twitching up, and then he sighed, as if in resignation. “No, Matthews, we didn’t sleep together. Well,” he amended with a tilt of his head. “Weslepttogether, but I didn’t steal your virtue or whatever.”
“Okay, Mr. Darcy,” I snorted.
“I repeat,” he said, as if drawing on every ounce of patience he possessed, “how much do you remember?”
I let my eyes slide to the side, scrunching my forehead as I tried to remember. There had been a lot of drinks with my receptionist posse, some scheming to get revenge on Adonis over there, something to do with honey… then Amos had caught me honey handed.
