Page 148 of Hateful Games

Traitor.

Leaving them, I disappear to my safe haven.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Rosalie

I distinctly remember falling asleep on the couch in the library last night.

Yet as I slowly rise from my slumber, I’m lying in a plush bed that smells utterly divine and the warmth emanating from it makes me want to stay curled up all day long.

Since when do beds have steady heartbeats?

That’s because I’m not alone, which isn’t unusual because Maggie likes to cuddle. Today, it’s not soft fur tickling me but rather a hard slab of muscle I’m wrapped around like a koala bear.

Hesitantly, I skate my fingers over the smooth ridges, feeling a pulse rise between my thighs. My body catches up before my mind can. Slowly, details take shape and awaken my senses. The rise and fall beneath my ear, the lack of barrier against my skin. My limbs tangled with someone and their knuckles grazing the length of my spine.

A boring gaze watching me.

With a start, I jerk awake to full consciousness.

As I travel my gaze up the familiar set of washboard abs, it clashes with Nova’s hooded eyes. Morning light streaming in through the small space between the curtains highlights the angular contours of his face.

So ungodly ravishing, it’s unfair.

One arm bent at the elbow and bracing his head, he stares down at me with dark possession. Even half naked, he’s commanding. Unlike most men, he wears his dominance beneath a thinly veneered layer of charm.

I’ve barely scratched the surface.

I feel tiny and feminine against his broad shoulders and hard pecs, especially the way he’s leaning slightly against the headboard. Those dark orbs deepen with hunger as they study my eyes, the tip of my nose, and finally resting on my lips when I lick the corner.

He just caught me copping a feel of him in my dozy state.

When did he bring me upstairs? How did I not feel him carry me?

I become even more aware that I’m draped over his firm chest more than the bed. My shirt is ridden up and bunched just below my breasts. The heat of his body searing my skin laden with goosebumps.

Something feels different and my eyes go wide when I feel my breasts bare underneath my shirt, which wasn’t the case when I passed out last night. Aghast and blushing, I ask him, “Did you take my bra off?”

“You didn’t wear it the first night,” he lazily drawls with a shrug. His morning voice deep and husky. “So, I assumed you don’t wear them to bed and took it off.”

“You had no right!”

In a flash, his arm hooked around my waist tightens and lifts me to straddle his hips, right over his hard length. It swells even more when I grind in an attempt to shift away. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I cease all movement.

“On the contrary, I have every right.”

Unable to squirm away from his vise-like grip, I make the terrible mistake of peering down and swallow nervously when his pierced tip peeks over his black boxers.

Heat burns my cheeks as I look anywhere but at him and whisper, “Put me down, Nova.”

“No,” comes his swift response. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

A deeper and hidden meaning resides behind those words. I ignore them like my life depends on it. “I’m mad at you.”

Now sitting upright, his thumb circles my outer thighs. My silk sleep shorts stretched just below where my hips meet my thighs. Nova takes full advantage and spans his hands around them, bringing his fingertips close to my folds.

I fight not to wriggle, even as my body comes alive with his filthy words.

---