Jonus sets me on his bed and the first thing I notice is that wonderful smell. I want to bury my face in his pillow and just breathe him in, which is completely insane. “It smells like you in here,” I say before my brain can stop my mouth.
Jonus pauses. “Is that bad?”
“No.” My voice comes out softer than I intended. “It’s good. It’s really good.”
I watch as he moves into the bathroom to line up my toiletries alongside his. Then he puts my small amount of clothes in drawers next to his clothing.
I can’t help cataloging the sparse, functional space. There is an oversized chair in a corner that I suspect is there so he can have a chair that actually fits. It reminds me of the huge furniture in the front rooms of this house. There are few personal items, some books on a shelf. A photo I can’t quite make out in the dim light. This is where he lives and sleeps. And now I’m going to be here too.
“Which side?” he asks, his voice rough.
“I don’t know. Which side do you usually sleep on?”
“Left. But I can?—”
“Left is fine. I’ll take right.”
He pulls back the dark covers for me and helps me slide in. His sheets are soft. They smell like him too. I resist the urge to roll around in them like some kind of scent-obsessed weirdo.
Jonus moves to the other side of the bed. The mattress dips significantly under his weight. I knew he was big, but sharing a bed really drives it home. He lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. I notice that the wooden headboard has a few scrape marks from his horns, but there is still enough space for him.
I turn and lie on my side, facing him to study his profile in the dim light. The slope of his horns. The strong line of his jaw. Those tusks I never thought I’d find tusks attractive, yet here I am, wondering what it would feel like to trace my tongue along them. My gaze travels down to that utterly perfect bare chest with the ridged stomach. The waistband of those sleep pants, riding low...
I look away before I get caught checking out his epic package for the hundredth time today.
Neither of us closes our eyes.
“Jonus?”
His head turns to look at me. “Yes?”
“Thank you. For everything. For Colombia. For the chair. For this.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Goodnight, Sloane.”
“Goodnight, Jonus.”
I close my eyes and try to sleep. I really do. But I’m hyperaware of his sexy body inches away. I’ve got bandages all over my feet still and yet I’m wishing I could pull down his pants and carefully lick that cock. Wowza. My practical brain:This is insane. You just got out of a relationship. You were kidnapped. You barely know him.
My body:Move closer. Touch him. You know you want to.
I tell my body to shut up and I breathe Jonus in and let myself relax completely for the first time since Colombia. Leave the orc alone. He personally went against the cartel to save my life and I’ve caught him staring at my ass too, so I know he wants more than friendship from me, but I don’t know what else. This means I need to let all of these hot thoughts go, for now.
Sleep pulls at me, warm and heavy.
I don’t dream of the pit.
Instead, I dream of green skin, dark eyes and a voice that tells me I’m beautiful.
I wakeup in his arms.
For a moment, I don’t remember where I am. Then his scent hits me and it all comes flooding back. The guest room. The invitation. Moving into his bedroom “for practical reasons.”
A happy smile widens across my face.
