With a roll of the eyes, she slammed the door.
Hair combed, teeth brushed, face washed, and not once did she think about the big sprawling, half naked man in her bed. Nor did she think about how her heart reacted when they’d almost kissed. It had never reacted like that. It felt like falling over the top of a roller coaster and launching into the sky simultaneously.
Then there was the way her lips tingled. She most definitely did not think about that. Especially because that wasn’t the only part of her tingling. In fact, had she not been so caught off guard by Hormone-Gate she would have paid more attention to her spidey senses, which were blaring again, wondering again how the camera crew knew to show up after the set had closed down for the night in order to capture an intimate moment in an area that had no mics or cameras.
It almost felt staged.
Suspicious indeed. Almost as suspicious as the way her body was reacting.
“Stop this right now, Poppy Anne Hart,” she demanded, giving herself a stern look in the mirror. “Yes, you are kind and funny. You only attract decent people. You are confident, not extra. Your crew loves you and wants to be led by you,” she said, repeating her bedtime mantra. “But tonight, you need to remember that you don’t take shit from anyone. Especially that dickwad in your bed. Now get out there and show him you mean business.”
She stepped into her pajama body armor, then opened the door.
He took one look at her and a small smile overtook his lips, which had that tingle zinging through her core again. His eyes dropped to her chest and she blasted herself for going sans bra.
“Good thing I like ’em a little crazy,” he said, and Poppy rolled her eyes. Too bad her cheeks heated in direct contrast to the unaffected look she was going for.
“Scooch, you’re hogging the whole bed.” She shoved at his giant arm, but Thor didn’t budge.
“Say please.”
“Please,” she deadpanned.
“As the lady wishes.”
He picked up Taters and in one fluid movement he was on the other side of the bed, Taters was in the middle, and Poppy had her third of the bed waiting for her.
“Thank you,” she said pertly and climbed in. The second she pulled up the covers she knew she’d made a tactical error. She should have made him sleep in the truck. Or maybe slept in the truck herself.
Her shirt was right, she was driving the crazy train, or she would be by the end of the night. Because as the sheets settled around her so did the scent of worn leather and hot, yummy man.
Her body was lying in the imprint of his, which was almost as intimate as lying on top of him. Then she looked over Taters’s head and her eyes locked on a pair of stormy blue pools, so intently focused on her that they created a rising tide of hormones inside her, making it impossible to swallow.
Not wanting to ride this unstable wave of irresistible attraction any longer—or let him know the effect he was having on her—she quickly rolled over. It didn’t help. She could still feel the pull, like the tide to the shore.
“Alexa,” she said. “Lights off.”
The room was plunged into darkness, with only a sliver of moonlight and streaks of lightning to illuminate the area. Instead of the tension between her legs easing, it did the opposite, growing and growing until it felt as if she was in a pressure cooker of sexual tension.
What the hell was going on with her? She groaned and threw the sheets over her head and began counting down from ten.
“How many guys have had the privilege of sleeping in this bed?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Just trying to distract myself. The same as you,” he whispered.
Did that mean he was having the same problem? And what did it mean if he was? Even more concerning, did she want the answer to that question?
Nope.
“Counting you and Taters…two.”
She felt the bed shift, and knew he was rising on his elbow. “Seriously? Your room is at the front of a one-story, away from the other rooms and you never snuck a guy into your bed? Wait. Why am I asking America’s favorite girl-next-door? You were too much of a good girl for that.”
“Hey.” She tossed the covers back and sat up straight. Shecould feel her hair going in all directions from the static electricity in the air. “I had my wild years.”
“Name one thing you did that you’d consider wild.”
