After stealing money from her wealthy but controlling stepfather, Nataly Collins makes the bold decision to run away with her four-year-old sister. But as she does, she crosses paths with an escaped convict from the local penitentiary, and he plans...
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My stomach freefalls as Brandon scoops me up like a weightless kitten and drops me right next to my sister. Then he brings his index finger to those luscious lips of his and says, "Shh, Nova's asleep."
The glare I send him is a scathing one but he doesn't appear bothered. Instead he lightly whistles back to the bathroom, drops the towel so that I get the silhouette of his tight, round ass, and then disappears behind the door.
I swallow hard.
Brandon returns in plain white boxers, though still entirely shirtless. It takes a moment to remember that I'm upset with him.
The moment he flips off the lights, I huff and rotate to my side—my back facing him—and I scoot as close as possible to Nova.
There's nothing gentle about how he gets onto the bed. He crashes into me before finally settling, his back resting firmly against mine due to the small space.
At least he isn't sleeping the other way. To have his whole front side up against my back side? Well, it would be pretty much impossible to get any sleep at all.
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The faint sound of laughter wakes me up in the morning.
I feel groggy and heady. My eyes take forever to peel open and Nova is no longer sleeping beside me. She has migrated to the edge of the bed, remote control in hand, watching the end of Boss Baby on Netflix. Not surprising. She's always been a quick learner.
Suddenly I'm hyper aware of soft breaths rising and falling against my curls. But it isn't until I blink up that I feel all of him.
I've settled into the crook of Brandon's whole right side. His slow deep breaths vibrate against my ribs.
I'm not sure when we assumed this position during the night, but my reaction isn't to immediately pull away. It's more: Why does this feel so damn nice?
My butt nests against his crotch, my t-shirt wrinkled up to my belly button. When I get my first real look at him, flutterings of all kinds bring heat to my stomach. He's so...so...beautiful. The way he sleeps. His eyes are closed, softening his jaw and the hardness of his cheekbones. His dirty blond hair is messy but in a vulnerable sort of way. All of his defenses, his manipulation tactics, his threats, his blunt perceptiveness are gone. I finally see him like a soldier without armor.
