I practically purr as I lean into his touch.
“Lose the blanket, Reese, and come here.”
“Emmett.”
“Don’t be weird about it. Just come here. I’m not going to get any sleep if you’re over there squirming all night, trying to warm yourself up.”
I can’t. I shouldn’t.
There’s too much on the line.
This baseball club.
His career.
My career.
My reputation.
The fact that I’m the first ever female team owner and now I’m lying in a bed with my field manager.
But he is right about this blanket being too cold, so I decide to shed it to the floor by the mattress, and instead of moving closer to him, I reach down to the end of the bed where his sheet and comforter are shoved and pull them over me, all the way up to my chin.
He doesn’t say anything about it and neither do I.
This will do just fine . . . eventually.
Minutes pass and I do my best to warm myself up. In fact, I’m practically praying that my body will stop involuntarily shivering. That my teeth will stop chattering. That I’ll stop squirming on the mattress next to him.
When I can’t seem to do it myself, Emmett slips his arm under the sheet, draping it over my waist and sliding his hand between me and the mattress. Then he easily scoops me up, pulling me back to meet his chest.
And that swift and effortless movement just causes a whole lot of other inappropriate ideas to play in my imagination. Because just as I suspected, this man has no problem tossing me around when I’ve never had the privilege to be tossed around before.
The legs of my pants and the back of my top have ridden up, putting that small part of us skin to skin. The warmth of his body on mine is almost painful thanks to the quick and sharp shift from cold to hot. But that sting subsides when Emmett removes his arm and scoots back just an inch so that we’re no longer touching, but still close enough that I can steal his warmth.
Slowly, my muscles begin to uncoil themselves. My skin begins to calm.
“This okay?” he asks quietly, but his lips are so close to my ear that the rumble of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
Which is not too helpful on the whole “getting warm” thing.
I swallow. “Probably not.”
“Why not? We’re basically... hugging. Hugging is totally fine.”
“Yeah, we’re just hugging. In your bed. With my ass against your crotch.”
“Semantics.”
“Just . . . keep your dick away from me.”
I can hear the smile in his reply when he says, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Emmett’s arm is awkwardly resting above the pillow where my head is before he adjusts it lower. And as if on instinct, I lift my cheek for him to put it under my head before resting it back on the inside of his bicep.
He sucks a sharp inhale at the contact.
“I know I’m cold but suck it up. You asked for this.”
