Was she going to wear it? For me?
Fuuuuuuck.
I don’t know what kind of dream I am experiencing right now, but hell if I want to ever wake up from it. I lift the lingerie from her bag and hold it up in the air, my breath leaving me in a hard, slow exhale. My God, this is the kind of thing I’ve imagined her in for ten fucking years.
Jesus Christ.
So, she meant it.
She reallymeantit.
Wait…
If that’s what’s sitting out here…
What is she wearing now?
I move closer to the bed, quietly, reverently, like I’m approaching something fragile and priceless. When I ease back the blanket a few inches I freeze, squeezing my eyes closed.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
This has to be a dream.
She’s wearing one of my Anaheim Stars T-shirts…and nothing else.
My shirt hangs off her shoulder. The hem barely—barely—covers her ass. Her bare legs tangled in my sheets like a dream made solid. And fuck me, I think this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen on a woman in my entire goddamn life.
My voice drops to a whisper before I can stop it.
“Oh, Harp…what are you doing to me?”
I kiss her forehead—just lightly—because if I really touch her, I’m going to wake her up and I need five minutes to pull myself together before she knows I’m here. I take the fastest shower known to man. Just hot water, a bar of soap, and a prayer I don’t combust before I make it back to the bedroom.
Because yeah, my dick is a fucking steel rod thanks to the sexy woman asleep in my bed.
When I return, she hasn’t moved much. Just shifted enough that one of her thighs is bare where the blanket slipped. Her breathing is slow, even, and soft. She’s gorgeous when she sleeps. I watch her for a few silent minutes because good God, she’s breathtakingly beautiful, and then I climb onto the bed carefully, bracing myself above her.
I can’t not touch her.
I’ve been starving for days.
And I have zero self-control.
I start with her shoulder. A soft kiss against her warm skin, then another to her collarbone. And then I move lower, dragging my mouth down the line of her throat. She stirs, a slow, sleepy sound emanating from her lips as they part. Her brows pull together like she’s drifting toward waking but she’s not quite there yet. I keep kissing her, tasting her, because frankly, I can’t stop and I don’t want to.
I work my way down her chest and across her stomach stopping at the hem of her T-shirt.MyT-shirt.
Fuck she’s so sexy like this.
And she’s all mine.
In my bed.
All for me.
I push up the fabric of her shirt with my nose, kissing the warm skin beneath.
“Harrison…?” she murmurs, barely awake, her voice a little husky.
