“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I cuss once I realize I’m in Jason’s bed. I accidentally spent the night.
His warm hand slides up my naked back and makes me shiver. I settle back down on the pillow with my back still facing him.
“What’s wrong?” Jason’s question is a sexy, sleepy grumble.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to spend the night.”
Jason’s chuckle is a sleepy rumble in his chest. “It’s okay, we both passed out. It’s expected after the night we had.”
My body tingles at the reminder. I love the way he takes my body to different heights.
“Still, your rules—”
“I know what they are, and I said you haven’t violated any.”
Clearly, he has yet to open his eyes. “The sun is…”
I can’t finish my statement because my body is shifted, and I find myself on top of him reverse cowgirl style in seconds. My hands are bracing on his thighs, and I’m in sight of his erection.
“Greet him properly since you’re so worried about the time.” Jason squeezes my ass cheeks. “Get on.”
I don’t know how he is able to take me from low-level panic to horny, but I moan as I slide down on top of him. His hands are gripping my ass, keeping it spread so he can watch.
“Mmm. I wish you could see what I see, Bree.” Jason pumps his hips to make the next few strokes harder. “Thisis how you wake me. Understand?”
Damn.
It’s like the worse he gets, the more I like it.
* * *
I drifted off, post unexpected morning sex, but the chime of the cellphone awakens me. I reach for it out of habit, but I’m still not home, and it’s not my phone. I roll over to find Jason sleeping on his back with no awareness of his ringing phone. He looks damn sexy and innocent while sleeping. I’m almost scared to awaken the sexual lunatic, but the call could be important.
I tap his hard shoulder a few times; I push harder when he doesn’t move.
“Jason! Your phone!” I scream whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Your phone is ringing,” I restate louder.
His green eyes pop open, and he looks at me for a moment. Although he doesn’t speak, his look conveys he’s already told me the proper way to wake him.
Scrubbing his hand over his beard, he plucks his phone off his bedside table.
“It’s my mom. I’ll call her later.”
His statement is the same thing people say all the time, yet the sadness I usually feel around the holidays triggers irritation at his words.
“No. You should talk to her, now. You’re not doing anything.”
I kick the covers off and prepare to climb out of bed. It’s not his fault I no longer have parents, but that doesn’t make me any less upset or sad.
Jason is on the edge of the bed, his strong arms band around my waist and pulls me back into his lap.
“What’s this about, Aubree?”
His concerned tone shatters the last bit of strength I have, and the tears, I’ve managed to ignore escape, me at once. The sobs shake my body, but he doesn’t freak out as I expect. Instead, he silently holds me, rubs my mussed hair, and gives my shoulder or temple the occasional peck.
