The man beside me groans.
Deep. Gravelly. Dangerous.
He shifts slightly, pulling me closer instinctively, his arm tightening around my waist like I belong there.
Which I absolutely do not.
Panic explodes inside my chest.
I shove him. Hard.
He doesn’t wake up.
I shove him again. Harder.
Nothing.
I sit up abruptly, the blanket falling to my waist, exposing both of us completely.
“Wake up,” I snap.
He grunts, still asleep.
Unbelievable.
I grab his shoulder and shake him with both hands. “Wake. Up.”
He jerks suddenly, his eyes flying open, his entire body tensing like he’s about to fight someone.
His gaze lands on my face.
Confusion.
Then irritation.
Then—very slowly—awareness.
His eyes drop. His pupils dilate.
His gaze moves down my body.
My bare chest. My bare stomach.
Lower.
Then his eyes snap back to mine.
We stare at each other. Neither of us speaks.
Then he glances down at himself.
His eyes widen.
He sits up so fast the sheet tangles around his legs.
“What the fuck,” he rasps.
“Yes,” I agree immediately. “Exactly.”
