"If I stay, I'm not going to want to stop at sleeping."
"I know."
"Kai..."
"Just sleeping." I pulled back the thin blanket, made room for him. "I don't want to be alone tonight."
He hesitated. I watched the war play out across his features—want and caution at arms, need and control in battle.
Then he kicked off his boots and lay down beside me.
The bed was too small for two grown men, especially when one of them was built like a tank. We ended up tangled together by necessity—his arm under my head, my leg thrown over his, his other hand spread warm and possessive across my chest. "This is a terrible idea," he murmured into my hair.
"Probably."
"You're going to ruin me."
I smiled against his chest, breathing in leather and whiskey andhim.
"Probably that too."
His laugh was soft, surprised. His arms tightened around me. Outside, the clubhouse settled into silence. Inside, wrapped in what I didn't know I was missing, I let myself drift toward sleep.
I let myself believe in tomorrow. I should have known better.
4
TESTING BOUNDARIES
Iwoke up warm. Not just comfortable—warm. The kind of heat that sinks into your bones and makes you want to burrow deeper, stay forever, forget the world exists outside this cocoon of skin and breath and heartbeat.
It took me a moment to remember why.
Axel was wrapped around me like I might disappear if he let go. One arm pinned under my head, the other locked across my waist. His leg had somehow wedged between mine during the night, and his face was buried in my hair, breath slow and even against my neck.
I stayed very, very still.
In sleep, the hardness had melted from his features. The permanent tension in his jaw had softened. He looked younger—not innocent, never that, but less like a man carrying the weight of a dead unit and more like someone who might actually know how to rest.
I could feel every inch of him pressed against my back. The solid wall of his chest. The ridges of his abs. The unmistakable hardness pressing against my ass.
Morning wood,I told myself firmly.Biological response. Means nothing.
But my own body was responding in kind, and there was nothing biological about the way my pulse had started racing.
He stirred. His arm tightened reflexively, pulling me closer, and a low sound rumbled from his chest—half groan, half sigh. Then his breathing changed, and I knew he was awake.
Neither of us moved.
"Kai." His voice was sleep-rough, barely more than a rasp.
"Yeah."
"This is..."
"Complicated?"
"I was going to say nice." His lips brushed my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "But complicated works too."
