Page 5 of Big Gruff Owner

He gives me a look, one that says he’s not going to argue about this. But I’m not backing down either. The last thing I want is to be the reason he has a miserable night.

“How about we both just sleep in the bed?” I suggest, trying to sound casual. “We’re both adults. We can handle it, right?”

He hesitates, and for a second, I think he’s going to say no. But then he nods, and I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, we can handle it.”

I follow him to his bedroom, trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding in my chest. The room is simple, like the rest of his house, but it smells like him—clean, woodsy, with just a hint of something darker underneath. It’s intoxicating.

He walks over to the left side, the side that is clearly crumpled from where his body had previously laid. He climbs in and I slide in next to him, keeping a respectful distance. Still, I can’t help noticing how warm he is, even with the distance between us. I can’t ignore how solid he feels either, just lying there next to me.

As I close my eyes, trying to will myself to relax, my body is hyperaware of every little thing—the sound of his breathing, the way the sheets feel against my skin, the tingling sensation in my stomach that I can’t quite explain. Eventually, though, the warmth and the comfort of his presence manage to lull me to sleep.

And for the first time since I moved here, I finally feel safe.

Chapter Three

Nathan

I wake up in the middle of the night, the kind of wake-up where your body knows something’s off before your brain catches on. At first, I think it’s just the usual shit—memories that won’t leave me alone, the kind that drag me out of sleep in a cold sweat. But tonight, it’s different. The bed feels warmer, softer somehow.

It takes a second to figure out what’s happening, and when I do, my heart damn near stops.

Sadie’s all but wrapped around me. Her leg is thrown over mine, and my arms—Jesus, my arms are holding her close, like I’ve got no intention of letting go. Her head’s tucked under my chin, her hair tickling my neck, and the scent of her—something sweet and floral—is filling my lungs. I don’t even know how this happened. We went to bed with plenty of space between us.

And then, I feel it—the hard evidence of my arousal pressed against her thigh. My gut twists in panic. If she wakes up and finds us like this, she’ll think I’ve done it on purpose. The last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable. Hell, the last thing I want is to be the creep who takes advantage of a scared girl who just needed a place to sleep.

I try to move, to untangle us without waking her, but the second I shift, she stirs. Her eyes flutter open, and before I can even think of what to say, she’s looking right at me, her expression still soft with sleep.

“Sorry,” I blurt out, my voice rough with panic. “I woke up like this—I didn’t mean to—”

She blinks a couple of times, then gives me this sleepy little smile that makes my chest tighten. “You don’t have to apologize,” she says quietly. “But I can move if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Her voice is soft, but there’s something in it that hits me deep, something that makes me realize just how much I don’t want her to move. Before I even know what I’m doing, I tighten my grip on her, pulling her closer, my body acting on instinct.

“No,” I say, my voice low. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

And I’m not. Not in the way she might think, at least. I should be—this whole situation should have me scrambling to put distance between us, but all I can think about is how right it feels to have her here, to feel her against me.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of us in the dark, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a blanket. I don’t know who moves first—maybe it’s her, maybe it’s me—but suddenly, our lips are touching, soft and tentative at first, like we’re both testing the waters.

Then something shifts. The kiss deepens. As my hands slide up and down Sadie’s back, I feel her start to respond. The way she arches closer, the way her breath hitches—there’s a tension building in her, and it’s starting to get to me too. She’s warm, and the way she presses against me stirs something deep in my gut. A slow, burning ache. I’m aware of every inch of her body, every shift and sigh, and it’s taking all my self-control to keep things steady, to not rush her.

I let my fingers tangle in her hair, feeling the silky strands between my fingers, and tug gently, just to see how she’ll react. When she grabs onto my arm, pulling herself closer, the sound that escapes her—a mix between a gasp and a yelp—makes me chuckle. I nip at her bottom lip, testing the waters, and when she yelps again, I can’t help but do it again. Her reactions are intoxicating.

She’s pressing so close to me now that I can feel every curve of her body flush against mine. I groan, feeling myself harden as her leg brushes against me. There’s no hiding it—I’m as turned on as I can be, and it’s obvious.

But then, I sense it—hesitation. It’s the barest of pauses, but it’s there regardless. So despite the reluctance I feel. I pull back, breathing hard with my heart pounding against my ribcage. I don’t let go of her completely—I can’t seem to make myself do it—but I put some space between us, just enough to let her know that I’m not pushing for anything more than she’s willing to give.

“You okay?” I ask, my voice low and rough.

She nods, but it’s slow like she’s still trying to figure things out. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just…” She trails off, biting her lip, and it’s everything I can do not to kiss her again.

I force myself to take a deep breath, to loosen my grip on her just enough to give her space. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” I tell her, meaning every word.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide, and I can see the uncertainty there. “Sorry, I just—I don’t know.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I retort, even though part of me doesn’t want to apologize. “We’re going a little fast. I didn’t mean to push you.”

“You’re not pushing me,” she corrects quickly, her face flushing that pretty shade of pink that drives me wild. “I—This is what I want. I just…”

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