“Okay, stop doing that.”
“Stop doing what?” he asks innocently.
“Looking at me like you want to eat me. I know you’re just trying to get inside my head.”
“Am I?” A hint of humor touches his voice.
“Yes.” I flee to the kitchen, taking a much needed breath.
I’m not really thirsty, but I grab two bottles of water anyway. What I really want to do is press one against my overheated skin, but that would give me away.
When I return to the lounge, I offer Romeo a bottle, and he purposefully brushes his fingers against mine as he takes it.
“You okay?” He arches a brow at me. “You look…hot.”
“I’m fine,” I grumble.
I sit back down, and he stretches out diagonally, narrowing the distance between us. His leg is only inches from mine now.
My eyes drift to that small gap between us throughout the rest of the movie, which I can’t seem to focus on.
When the credits roll, and Nightmare on Elm Street starts automatically, neither one of us moves.
This feels like thewho will admit defeat firstgame, and it won’t be me.
I settle in for the long haul, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the lounge and tucking my knees to my chest.
Minutes pass, and I occasionally steal glances at Romeo as my eyes grow heavy. He has to be exhausted, but he’s not caving at all.
Eventually, to my irritation, sleep must win.
When I wake up, I’m blissfully comfortable, my face nestled against something warm. I burrow into that fabric, inhaling as my brain tries to process what smells so good.
As my eyelids flutter open, I realize with humiliating clarity exactly what it is.
“Oh dear God,” I groan, blinking up at Romeo.
I fell asleep on him. I don’t know when or how, but my face is plastered to his abs.
“Morning, sunshine.” His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches me squirm. “Sleep well?”
“I, um…” For some ungodly reason, my gaze drifts lower, and I swallow.
I’m only inches from his very large, very rigid cock.
Holy crap.
Do not make this weird.
That’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything. Men wake up ready to fuck anything in their vicinity—like cavemen.
Why can’t I stop staring?
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Rafe chirps.
I glance up at the amused expression on his face as he casually sips his coffee, staring at us.
This horror show is getting worse by the second.
