“Please don’t sleep on the couch.”
I inhaled a deep breath, knowing how hard it would be not to fuck her if I wrapped myself around that gorgeous body in anything resembling a bed.
But nothing was harder than saying no to my Alexis.
Striding toward her, I leaned over the mattress and took her hand.
“You sure?”
Her throat bobbed as she nodded. “Please?”
Unable to deny her, I slipped beneath the blankets. Resting on my side, I pulled her body into mine, spooning her as I nuzzled her nape. I slid my hand up her stomach, resting my arm between her breasts and tenderly cupping her neck as she purred.
“Better,” she said, wiggling her ass into my cock.
“Go to sleep.”
“Don’t boss me around.”
I nipped her neck as she chuckled.
Two minutes later, she was snoring again.
Relaxing into her, I joined her in her dreams.
Chapter 12
Alexis
Iwoke up to the sound of Nick’s heavy breaths in my ear. Rolling over, I bit my lip to hide my snicker. His mouth was partially open and his stubble was dark across his strong jaw.
“Man, you’re out cold,” I whispered.
Deciding to let him sleep, I trailed to the kitchen and mulled over our breakfast options.
“Spaghetti O’s or creamed corn,” I muttered to myself. “Not exactly brunch at the Plaza.”
I decided on the corn and opened the can before pouring it into the lone pot I’d found underneath the sink. I hummed as I stirred the corn, eventually placing them in the two mugs from last night. Heading back to the living room, I smiled at Nick as he lay upon the bed, studying me.
His chest was bare above his six-pack, and saliva rushed through my mouth at the thought of tasting the black little hairs along his happy trail. What would he taste like there...and what would he taste like if I went lower?
“Hey, princess,” he murmured, his voice sleepy. “You make us breakfast?”
“Mmm hmm. Creamed corn. The breakfast of champions.”
He grimaced before rising. “Yum,” he said sarcastically.
Taking the mug, he sat beside me on the couch and began to eat.
After swallowing a few bites, he looked out the window. “It’s still coming down. I wonder how long it’s going to last.”
“Not sure, but it will give you time to heal, at least. How are you feeling?”
He eyed the bandages on his arm, wrist and hand. “Pretty good. I’m tough.”
I gnawed my lip as curiosity swelled. “Have you been hurt before? Or tortured?”
“Sure,” he said, shrugging. “It’s kind of a requirement of the job. I was grazed in the thigh once when we busted one of your dad’s meetings with an old drug trafficking contact. He was less than thrilled we...” he cleared his throat, “put the dealer out of business.”
