When he turns to catch me staring, I don't miss the way he smirks, like he knows exactly what he's doing.
"Is this alright? Don't normally sleep with a shirt." His hands descend to his waist, his thumb hooking over the metal button of his jeans. My eyes trail right along with them, completely trapped, as he pops the rivet free. Plaid fabric has never been so overwhelming before. "The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable, Lucia."
I whip onto my side before I see something I shouldn't—and worse, before he sees the absolute havoc he’s wreaking on my pulse. "It's fine. I'm fine," I manage, staring blindly at the wall while my ears strain to catch the rustle of denim behind me.
While I'm glad Dawson is confident enough to undress in front of a stranger, I wish I could feel as numb to it. Instead, all I can focus on is the sudden, agonizing sensitivity of my own skin. I should’ve stolen a pair of his sweatpants. Lying here in just my underwear, the bare heat of my own thighs rubbing together feels like an admission of exactly how affected I am.
Fighting the urge to squirm when the bed shifts under the additional weight, he makes things easier by turning off the light on his side of the bed.
"Goodnight." One word shouldn't be enough to be felt through the entire bed. The darkness makes it that much easier to feel.
“Night,” I whisper to the dark. I hug the blanket to my chest, locking my knees together to keep from trembling.
It’s going to be the longest night of my life.
Chapter four
Dawson
The sound of rain lightly falling onto the roof is what wakes me up. Cracking my eyes open, the first thing I see is the lack of the sun outside.
I'm accustomed to greeting dawn with a hot cup of coffee while sitting on my porch. The only thing I've got welcoming me today is seeing Lucia spread out on her back.
I’m a total bastard for drinking her in while she’s defenseless, but I can’t tear my eyes away. She’s shifted entirely onto my side of the mattress, clearly hunting for warmth in the middle of the night. My plaid shirt hangs massive on her frame, the hem ridingup her thighs, but the fabric is stretched taut across the swell of her breasts. The sight of her swimming in my clothes hits me straight in the chest.
It's my fault for not tossing in more logs before we fell asleep, but I couldn't risk her changing her mind about sleeping arrangements.
Waking up to a sight like this? Fuck, I feel lucky. In the short time I've known Lucia, I've yet to see such a peaceful expression on her face.
A soft, flush pink colors her cheeks, and her breathing is slow, puffing warm air into the space between us. My eyes drag lower, completely mesmerized by the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Every protective instinct I have is warring with a sudden spike of hunger.
My hand twitches against the sheets. It takes every ounce of restraint not to reach out, to map the shape of her body with my palm and feel how those curves shift beneath my fingertips if I drag them slowly from her shoulder down to the swell of her hip.
I'm not a strong man. Keeping myself tucked away in my cabin has always been the safe option. Hell, I'd promised myself off women years ago when the last one broke my heart. The last one was a snake, but Lucia, she's a soft, fragile thing I want to wrap myself around and never let go.
Even more so when she murmurs something under her breath. I miss the whisper, but I don't let the soft sigh passing her lips slip by.
Carefully reaching up, I graze the curve of her cheek. Pushing away her hair, I'm left drinking in what has to be one of the most breathtaking views a man in my position has taken in.
With the graze of my thumb drifting to the bottom of her lip, I tell myself to pull away. It's thanks to my weakness that her eyes flutter open in a daze. She blinks a few times before I can pullaway. Catching me in the act, she doesn't yank away instantly as she should. Instead, she looks so sleepy.
Does she think she's caught in the middle of a dream?
"Good morning." Hoping my voice will be enough to bring her to reality, I try to pull my hand away. Before I can, she leans against my fingers, seeking out the heat. Cursing internally, I'm damned for looking at her lips.
I want to kiss her.
Fuck, I want to.
"Lucia..." Groaning her name, my thumb traces her bottom lip. "You can sleep, and I'll get breakfast going. Coffee, too."
I need something to feed this hunger clawing at my chest. Food won't be enough to satisfy it. Not with her looking so tempting right now.
"Tell me to move, Lucia," I murmur, leaning down until my breath brushes her lips. "Because if you don't..."
She doesn't take my warning seriously enough. Rather, her lips part, and her breath tickles my thumb. I'm too weak to fight against myself.
I kiss her.
