Page 61 of Bound

So, I hold tight to that pain, tuck it close as I bring the covers up and over us?—

And let sleep take me under.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Claire

I’m hot.

Scorching and sweaty, like the time I fell asleep in Gran’s garden in the hell of a humid summer day, waking up sunburned and dripping with perspiration, ready to pass out.

I’d stumbled into the house, gulped down water, allowed the air conditioning to sweep over me, the cool blast beneath the vent enough to bring my temperature down.

But there’s no relief now.

Slowly, I peel my lids back, realize that the inferno isn’t the sun blasting down on me.

It’s in the form of a strong body pressed close to my back, arms holding me tight, warm, damp breath on the back of my neck.

This was one of my fantasies too—waking up with Jackson in my bed, his body wrapped around mine…

Just without the side of sweat.

My mouth curving, I poke a foot out, feel the cool air of the hotel room ghosting over my skin, an instant relief that has merealizing that while I’m a little sweaty, I’m not nearly as bad off as that day all those summers ago.

But geez, how does a human make this much heat?

I shift forward, seeking more coolness, drawing the blanket off my legs.

I’m wearing my jeans. No wonder it’s hot as fuck. Of course, Iamtopless so one would think that would counteract some of the heat.

Not so much, apparently?—

Wait.

I’mtopless.

As in, last thing I remember, Jackson was worshiping my body, giving me an orgasm that was so fucking all-consuming that I forgot what my name was and where I was and?—

Well, I wasn’t doing much thinking.

I was feeling and I was…

Oh, my God.

I whip my head around, get a glimpse of Jackson’s sleeping form.His fully clothedsleeping form.

Shit.

“I fell asleep!”

I don’t realize I said that out loud until his eyes slowly open?—

Fuzzy with sleep, his expression is adorable, and he looks like he’s about ten years younger, like the little boy who protected his girlfriend and lost so much and?—

He rumbles out a groan, wrapping his arm tighter around my middle and rolling us until I’m pinned beneath him. “You fell asleep on me,” he mutters, nipping at the bottom side of my jaw.

“I know,” I say softly, not wanting to ruin the hush of the morning, the quiet peace that’s surrounding us. Soon enough he’ll have to get up for morning skate, get ready for the game tonight, “I’m sorry. I guess I ate or drank too much.”

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