Summer
Iwake up the day before my twenty-ninth birthday with a man’s hand in my hair, gripping my scalp. For a brief moment, panic rises in my veins before the events of the night flood my memory.
Dayton.
My eyes drift open to see that he’s sleeping on his side, arm extended over to me, his hand tangled in my hair. He’s not hurting me, but his grip is firm. I don’t think I could move away from him if I tried to until he let go.
He probably slept like this with Noelle …
Ice seeps through my veins, and I try to pull away again. His grip tightens.
Shit.
Hair-pulling has never been one of my things, but I’ve never thought about it much either. It’s been over eight months since I’ve had sex. The position we’re in is bringing up searing, heated thoughts about how long it’s been since someone else has brought me any pleasure. My chest and cheeks feel hot, but I’m trapped.
I need to get laid! I’m over touching myself and getting turned on by everything Dayton does.
I can’t decide if I should wake him up or suffer through this until he finally opens his eyes. I exhale slowly, closing my eyes and trying to stop the dirty train of thoughts beginning to form in my mind.
Anyone else. Not Dayton.
He’s still shirtless. I open my eyes and let them slowly trail from the veiny forearm, to the attached biceps, and to his muscular chest.
Sweat is starting to gather on my lower back. The arousal dampening my pajama shorts is bringing me to the edge of panic.
I have to get out of this bed.
I try pulling away again, growing more desperate, the more turned on I feel. A tiny smirk pulls up on the corner of his lips.
My mouth gapes. “Have you been awake this whole time?”
His eyes remain closed, as well as his fist. “Since the first pull.”
“Let me go, Dayton,” I grit out.
He groans and stretches back his other arm. The masculine sound rips through me, igniting even more of a heat in my core. My pussy throbs with arousal. I’ve never imagined what Dayton would be like in bed, but,fuck,with how intense he is out of it …
Noelle, you lucky bitch.
“Hmm,” he sighs, a deep, manly sound that tickles my skin before he finally lets go and opens his amber eyes.
I exhale, pulling away as goose bumps prickle over my skin. My nipples are definitely visible through this tank top, so I pull the extra muslin blanket up over my chest as I climb out of bed.
“You cannot stay here.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He reaches his arm behind his head, tucking it under the back of his neck. The movement emphasizes his biceps andtriceps, and my mouth waters. I bite into my tongue to try and quench the arousal with pain.
“We never got the chance to share a room growing up. I thought it could be fun.”
I grit my teeth. “Liar. You’re just here to mess with me, to ruin my birthday.”
He frowns. “I would never. I’m shocked you think so low of me.” His frown morphs into a smirk.
“I’m serious. Youcannotstay here.”
“Says who?”
“Saysme! The person who already lives here.”
