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“Easton,” she breathes out but doesn’t push me away. “That was rude.”
I bend my knees and toss her over my shoulder. “Then I guess I’m sorry aboutthis.”
“Easton,” she calls out, laughing. Damn, I love that sound.
“What’s going on, brother?” Pace asks with Everly glued to his side.
“We’re getting the hell out of here, man,” I tell him and start walking, knowing her whole crew, including my sister, is following behind.
LINDY
I’m not sure what wakes me up first... the throbbing in my head or the obnoxiously loud alarm I don’t remember setting on my phone. I yank the pillow over my face to drown it out, but it’s no use.
Wait... I think that’s a ring tone.
Who the hell is calling this early?
I swing my hand out, trying to silence the phone and smack my wrist against the corner of the nightstand instead.
Ow. That hurt. Not enough to stop the pounding in my head, but enough.
I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be able to feel your pulse behind your eyes.
This is not normal.
I lie with my eyes closed, trying to piece together why the hell I feel this way, but last night is fuzzy. Almost as fuzzy as my mouth.Eww. The last thing I remember was...Shots. Dancing.More shots. Then what?
“Relax, princess. I got you.”
That voice...Oh my God.I’ve heard that voice more times than I can count, but it’s never sounded quitethatgood. Deep and gravelly and so fucking sexy that heat pools in places it has no business pooling at the moment.
A big, warm, deliciously callused palm wraps around my waist and presses flat against my stomach. My very bare stomach. Butterflies take flight, and every nerve-ending in my entire body stands alert. And that’s before I’m pulled back against an incredibly firm chest, and the man that chest belongs to groans.
A man who shouldn’t be in my bed.
Whyishe in my bed?
Wait... is this my bed?
“Unless you don’t want to sleep,” Easton murmurs as he buries his face in my hair as that question hangs in the air.Fuck me.
Wait.No.
This has got to be a dream. I’m on a girls’ trip in Vegas.
I’m rooming with Everly.
Nowhere in my plan was I supposed to end up in a bed with anyone this weekend.
Especially.Not. Him.
No... I press the pillow down against my eyes.
This can’t be happening.
It’s a dream.You’re still dreaming.
Hips press against my ass, and any doubt that I might actually still be dreaming quickly vanishes because in my dreams, Easton Hayes doesn’t feel this good. Of course, my dreams usually end before I get the chance to enjoy his ridiculously large erection pressing firmly against my ass.
