Page 90 of Rebellion

And most importantly, coffee.

All thoughts of being embarrassed over last night or trying to keep him at arm’s length today disappeared.

Because, you know, coffee.

She held her hands up and made grabby motions. “Gimme. Gimme.”

He raised his eyebrow, giving her a stern look as he put the tray down on the bedside table.

Wow. He was hot.

Why hadn’t she taken the time to notice last night? He had a pair of black pajama pants on.

And nothing else.

The. Man. Was. Fine.

Wide shoulders. A muscular chest. Abs... oh God, those abs. She wanted to run her tongue down his chest and stomach. To push those pajama pants down and find out what he had going on underneath.

Calm down.

She couldn’t. She shouldn’t.

But it didn’t stop her from wanting to.

He had tattoos all down his arms and chest. They were such a mix of things that she couldn’t figure them all out at once. The chest tattoo was some sort of bird. Maybe an eagle.

It must have taken hours and hours to get the feathers all done.

Then he cleared his throat and she glanced up, embarrassment filling her as she saw the look of knowing on his face.

“You finished, baby? Looked your fill?” he asked in a low, husky voice.

His face was filled with heat. With knowledge.

She moved her gaze away, and thankfully, it hit on the one thing that might distract her.

Sort of.

Reaching out, she grabbed the coffee. Her hand shook slightly, though, making the cup wobble.

“Whoa, careful there, baby. Maybe caffeine isn’t what you need,” he said with clear concern as he steadied the cup.

“It is. I’m just wobbly because I need more caffeine.”

“Hmm. We’ll talk to the doctor about that. You’re already sleep-deprived. The last thing you need is to add stimulants.”

Wait. What?

They’d talk to the doctor?

About her and her caffeine?

Yeah, not happening, buddy.

“No one gets between me and my coffee,” she growled, pulling the mug toward her mouth.

He let it go, observing her carefully.

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