“You’re right.” She chuckled and let out a sleepy sigh that had no business stirring any sort of attraction below my waist. It was like the sounds she made eating—innocent, yet making me wish I knew how she sounded when she was naked. “I feel like I should give you a heads-up, I’m a wild sleeper.”
Wild?I cleared my throat. “Yeah? How so?”
“Talking in my sleep, rolling around, taking my clothes off. The usual.”
Taking clothes off.Her words sparked a vivid image of her in her bra, her ample cleavage I’d done my best to ignore since my hand rested inches from it.Shit.She would definitely feel my reaction if I didn’t change the subject immediately. I’d already upset her enough. Getting a boner against her while we snuggled for survival was the worst thing I could do.
Change the subject.
Ignore how warm and soft and curvy she is.
“Uh.” I swallowed hard, unable to get the image out of my head. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
“Probably heading to my parents’ for a night,ifI can get out of here.” She yawned. “What about you?”
“My sister’s place. It’s fun with the kids.”
“Mm, I bet.” Her voice drifted off, and her breathing deepened.
I envied her ability to fall asleep that quickly. Some nights it took me hours, and I’d overanalyze everything in my life. Others, I’d toss and turn, thinking about the high probability this would be my last season coaching, and I’d have to hear about Hank’s success for years. Or Vivian would make an appearance, and I’d remember everything I did wrong in my marriage. Tonight was different. Thoughts about Becca flashed across my mind, each one more inappropriate than the last.
The way she moaned when she ate.
The way she looked in her bra.
The way she kissed with so much passion two years ago.
Damn it. Be a better man.
Counting to four hundred didn’t help, nor did thinking of plays we could run next season—assuming we had the talent. I moved to get a beer, but Becca changed position and turned toward me. She nuzzled her face against me and wrapped herself around my body, intertwining our legs.
Holy shit.She felt even better pressed up against me. She was soft in all the right places, something I’d admired about her two years ago. Most of my dates were beautiful women, but they didn’t have Becca’s curves. She had the perfect hips, leading to great legs, and…shit I’m getting a boner.
She nuzzled her nose against my skin and let out a little sigh. Awareness shot through my body like fire in my veins.
Deep breaths.
She’s sleeping.
Don’t be a creep.
I considered moving her away from me, but she might get cold again, and it wasn’t worth chancing it. I had no choice. I had to tough it out, having her pressed up against me. I prayed I’d get some sleep.
A moan startled me. My watch read 3:17 a.m., and only a few embers remained. We were spooning.Again.My right hand had slipped underneath her shirt, my fingers lazily stroking her breasts in my sleep.
What am I doing?
Why can’t I stop?
“Mm, feels good,” Becca whispered.
I tensed, desperate for that husky voice again. She ground against my erection, a throaty moan escaping.
“Are you awake?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
Her voice was alert.Perfect.
