Or we’d been made for her.
8
NOELLE
What had I done?
I shifted on the mattress, easing my feet slightly away from the warm legs pressed against mine.
My body ached with the deliciousness of being pleasured beyond what I thought possible.
I’d done things and had things done to me that defied logic and turned my brain to mush.
The comfortable bed—and the arms draped across my stomach—held me in a state of sleepy satisfaction.
I closed my eyes, only for them to fly open again.
Shit.
Hours of sex and I’d completely forgotten about my meeting with Craig.
Not that I’d been looking forward to it.
In fact, I dreaded it so much, I’d rather eat scoops of snow off the asphalt after the snow plows had churned it up than talk to the misogynistic asshole of a detective.
Of all the people for Captain Delaney to have me report to, Craig was the worst.
The sleepy satisfaction turned to exhaustion as the meeting loomed over me.
I sank deeper into the cozy haven Rafe, Ash, and Bishop created around me and tried to ignore my responsibilities.
Ash lay in front of me, his blond hair rumpled from my hands and what little sleep he’d managed.
They were all asleep, their soft breaths loosening the knots in my stomach.
Rafe moved his leg behind me, his toes running up the back of my calf and then to my knee. “Are you all right?”
The deep, husky notes of sleep softened his gruffness.
“I’m not sure how to answer that.” I gave him the truth since it was one of the few times I could. “Last night and this morning were incredible.”
We’d moved from the pool table to one of the bedrooms sometime in the middle of our fun times.
I raised my head and took in our surroundings.
Dark paneled walls and a large four-poster bed took up most of the space.
Everything else muddled into shades of brown as Bishop rolled over and turned on a small lamp on the bedside table.
The light cut across his face, highlighting the crags and smoothing out the hollows of his cheeks.
I eased around Rafe and stood.
“Where are you going?” Ash sat up with a yawn and scrubbed both hands down his face.
Bishop cracked his neck by shifting his head from side to side. “She’s a grown woman, Ash. She doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“Thank you, Bishop.” All my clothes were still out in the clubhouse.
