Taking the stairs two at a time, I hurried into my room then froze. Shit. Andi was sleeping in my bed.
I had at least twenty-two other rooms I could sleep in — I lived in a mansion, for shit’s sake.
But my bed.
She was in my bed.
FML. Seriously.
I had two choices. I could get my head out of my ass and walk backward, slowly out of the room, and crash somewhere else.
Or I could watch her sleep like the creepy son of a bitch I was… no way I would actually be able to succumb to sleep if I was next to her.
She was too…
Everything.
The decision was made when she made a little moan, not one out of pleasure, but something that sounded fearful, like she was afraid of the dark and needed a teddy bear.
Shit, had I really just thought teddy bear?
And unfortunately my body reacted — responded, one foot after another — and suddenly I was pulling my shirt off and lying down on the soft mattress.
Like a pubescent high-schooler, I stayed on my side of the bed, careful not to touch any area she’d been on.
It worked for about ten minutes.
And then an arm plopped onto my chest, followed by a leg covering my leg, and then, I was getting used as a giant ass pillow.
My teeth clenched. My body tightened with awareness, and just when I was getting ready to get the hell out of there, she whispered.
“Safe.”
I was anything but safe. But, in that moment, I vowed never to let her feel fear again, even if it meant I had to kill every son of a bitch in my way.
Safe I could do.
Safe I could promise.
CHAPTER TEN
Andi
I KNEW BEFORE I EVEN OPENED my eyes that I had molested poor Sergio in his sleep.
I only felt sorry for him because I knew my sleeping habits. I wasn’t one of those girls who slept quietly with their arms folded across their chests, their hair softly lying across the pillow, lips glossy, makeup still on.
Um, no. Sleep for me was a full contact sport — one I embarked on with my mattress nightly.
It wasn’t rare to find me on my ass on the floor, because somehow during the night I’d decided that my sheets were trying to strangle me alive, and in order to protect myself, I’d had to pull them from my bed and create a makeshift fort on the floor.
My favorite position usually consisted of my feet being where my head should be and my head nearly teetering off the bed, hands hanging in front of me, just ready for someone to pull me the rest of the way off and onto the floor.
Needless to say, I was a bit cautious when I opened my eyes.
First off, I’d feel horrible if I’d accidentally punched him in the eye or something. Heck, I wouldn’t put it past me to knee him in the balls a few times just because I wasn’t used to men sleeping with me.
They were never welcome.
The few times I’d had one-night stands, it had been to gain intel for dear old Dad. Love had had nothing to do with it.
Survival — did.
Sergio’s chest rose and fell with a slow rhythm. He was still sleeping, or I assumed as much, so I stared like a raging lunatic.
I took inventory of his abs, noting that they were, in fact, as cut as I suspected; my fingers itched to trace the hard edges, and when my eyes drifted lower, I fought this insane temptation to see if the rest of him was that impressive.
Unfortunately, he’d kept his pants on from the night before; meaning, if I wanted to explore, I’d need to actually unbutton said pants, and that set me up for risk of exposure.
Ha! Exposure.
I held in a giggle at my own joke.
He let out a little moan and shifted closer to me.
And like a complete idiot — I let him. Because he was warm, and sexy, and had I mentioned sexy?
At least with his mouth closed, I could finally see what all the fuss was about. It was hard to look past his cruel nature when he was constantly speaking or, you know, breathing.
His chiseled jaw was clenched tight. His eyebrows furrowed a bit as if he was concentrating extremely hard on whatever type of dreams invaded that head of his. I imagined he probably dreamt of death.
Lots and lots of death.
I reached out and briefly touched his silky dark hair. It should be a sin to have such soft hair and be a man.
He already had long enough eyelashes to make me green with envy.
I sighed and tucked a strand behind his hear. My hand hovered near his temple.
Holy crap.
He had a scar.
I kind of wanted to throw a party. The man wasn’t perfect. Thank God. I needed to see a flaw because things were looking pretty uneven at that point. He didn’t snore, he smelt like heaven, and even his eyebrows had a perfect arch.
But that scar? Yeah, I could work with that.
It was small, barely noticeable. A pinkish white line trailed from his right ear down the back of his neck, his hair covering it perfectly. Hmm, I fought the urge to trace it with my finger.
Or my tongue.
But that was inappropriate, almost as inappropriate as raping him with my eyes, but hey, I at least deserved some eye candy after the way he’d treated me in the field.
It was a sort of payback.
My eyes receive a treat after my ears receive a scolding. Plus, he really wasn’t in any position to get mad at me.
He let out another moan then turned toward me. Uh-oh. I tried to slide away, but his left arm snaked out and pulled me close while his right hand found.
My breast.
I ignored my hormones, or at least tried to, and shifted away. Then the man squeezed.
I closed my eyes and muttered a curse.
He started massaging.