“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her. “Just making us both more comfortable.”
I reach down to remove her boots and find her gun tucked inside. I frown, not at the weapon but at the imprint it left against her skin.
Hmm. I make a mental note to suggest that Noah buy her a proper holster for the firearm. Maybe even a better make and model, too. Because this one was clearly purchased from a secondhand shop.
Our girl deserves the best money can buy. And that applies to everything in her life.
I set her toy on the nightstand, then massage her foot a little. I want to make sure she’s not too sore tomorrow. Once I finish, I tuck her in beneath the blankets, all while purring.
Yet she still tries to grab me, clearly not wanting to be left alone.
Maybe it’s just our scent match messing with her instincts, but I can’t deny her. So I slip out of my own shoes and slide into the bed with her.
She instantly rolls into me, burying her face in my chest like she’s trying to get as close to my purr as physically possible.
I chuckle, then hold her while she sleeps.
I only realize I’ve dozed off as well when a vibration on the nightstand stirs me awake. It’s her phones—both of them—lighting up with an incoming message.
I glance at it and see it’s a text from her friend Luna.
Followed by one from Silva.
And another pops up with Luna’s name attached to it.
Not wanting the sound to disturb my resting omega, I turn off the vibration effect on both phones.
Lark can catch up with her fellow “Widows”—a term I learned while researching her—after she’s slept. I’m sure they’ll have a lot to discuss.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LARK
The scent of leather,paper, and coffee surrounds me, causing my nose to twitch.Did I fall asleep in a bookstore?
And why am I so warm?
I force one eye open, peering at the masculine wall I’m currently snuggled up against.
A naked chest.
A very toned, very sexy male chest.
And it’s purring…
My lashes flutter, the events of last night slamming into me with a start.
Only for my body to relax instinctually as the vibrating sound rolls through me.
Did Johan hold me all night?
And when did he lose his shirt?
Is he wearing pants?
I subtly move my leg, which I now realize is intertwined with his, and freeze at the hardness I feel against my upper thigh.
Because yep.
