Sexily mussed.
Unfair.
“My head is killing me,” I say slowly. “My mouth feels like sandpaper, and my stomach is moaning for food but groaning at the thought.”
He grins.
Grins.
I’ve seen Derek Pierce grin exactly twice before this moment. Three now.
It renders me profoundly stupid.
Mark appears behind him. Shirtless. Pajama bottoms. Bare feet. Coffee.
Then Alex.
Also shirtless. Also coffee.
All three stop short when they see me sitting up, staring like I’m trying to solve a complicated equation.
“I don’t remember what happened,” I whisper.
My brain immediately offers worst-case scenarios.
What if I did something kinky with all three of them?
What if?—
No.
I’m not sore. Not even a little. And I know for a fact that ifanything had happened with even one of them, I’d feel it.
Painfully good.
That is not the case.
Mark chuckles. “Relax. We didn’t double-O seven you.”
“What?” I whisper.
“You know,” Alex says cheerfully. “Pierce is known as 007 for his womanizing ways.”
Normally I’d have something sharp to say.
Instead, the words line up in my head and then… drift away.
“That’s… comforting,” I manage.
Derek notices. I can tell.
“Nothing happened last night,” he says firmly.
I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.
Probably both.
“Well,” Mark says thoughtfully, “something did happen.”
