Page 46 of Scorched King

My mind continued to drift until I heard the change in her breathing and I relaxed knowing that she had what she needed—for now. Tomorrow I would have to dig a little deeper into this nightmare and possibly enlist Patty’s help. Having a club old lady who was a psychologist came in handy, but it bothered me sometimes how often we needed her.

The point was to protect my people from getting hurt, not always trying to fix them after the fact. The only way to do that was to find who it was that set us up. And then make that mother fucker pay for hurting my girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sasha

When I woke in the morning, I wasn’t alone. I blinked, confused, until I remembered what happened during the night. I took a shallow breath and stayed still, soaking up JD’s heat before curling tighter against his side, reveling in the fact we were together in my bed. Even if it wasn’t the big romantic moment I’d always hoped for.

I had no idea what to do right now. I’d never woken with someone else in my bed before. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to pretend I was still sleeping? Creep out of the bed and not wake him? That idea hurt. Especially when I didn’t want it to end.

When I’d woken after only an hour of sleep from a nightmare, and JD burst through my room with wild eyes and a gun in his hand…

I folded my lips between my teeth to keep from giggling about it now. I’d explained it was a dream, but that I was having trouble getting and staying asleep. His offer to help by staying in herewith me had sent me reeling, although to be honest, I didn’t want to say no.

Given how I’d felt before falling asleep, I would have preferred a different kind of help—preferably him fucking my brains out. But since even multiple orgasms with my vibrator had done nothing to ease my anxiety, this was probably for the best.

My emotions were already tangled tight without adding sex to the mix.

After all, this was what I’d been dreaming about for a long time. JD in my bed. I still couldn’t believe it.

My hand currently rested on top of his stomach, making it all too real. And I couldn’t help but admire the sensation of his rock-hard abs under my fingers. I’d heard him refer to himself as an old man more than once, but there was nothing about his body that even hinted at his age. Without his shirt, he looked incredibly good, making my mouth practically water. I craved more.

He’d burst in wearing nothing but snug grey boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, and I’d nearly lost my mind.

Only the lingering fear from my nightmare had kept me from saying anything. Now, however, he was even closer and his skin was warm and lickable under my fingertips. And in the light of day the last of the nightmare had faded.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” he said softly despite the sleep roughened tone of his voice. Not quite a growl, but it was close.

“I did. But the sun’s up now and my body knows it’s time to get up and start the day.”

“That’s bullshit. It’s probably not past six. Three fucking hours of sleep is not enough. Get more.” He muttered all of this without even opening his eyes, though I longed to see his deep, ocean-blue gaze. I loved how he looked at me. How his eyes burned with a flicker of hunger whenever they finally landed on me. He always attempted to hide his desire, but I frequently caught it anyway.

It was that same hunger in myself that was right this second making my heart beat a little harder, and the ache between my legs grow a little sharper.

“You’re not going back to sleep are you?” He sounded grumpy, and I liked that about him too. His gruff, demanding demeanor drew me closer instead of pushing me away.

I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “I’m going to get up, but you should sleep more. I need to get some yoga in this morning. Everything feels too tight.”

He groaned. “You trying to kill me?”

“What?” I didn’t understand what he meant.

“You think I’ll sleep another wink thinking about you in those yoga pants in my living room, your tits swinging free as you bend yourself into weird poses that look like sexual positions on steroids?”

“Oh my God, JD!” My face flamed hot at the reminder of how he’d found me the other day. “It’s just yoga.”

“Keep telling yourself that, babe. I guaran-damn-tee that the inventor of that shit was a horny fucking man. Because every one of those positions puts either your ass, your tits, or your pussy ondisplay and in a position that makes a man want to fuck you. And not easy either.”

My mouth fell open at his assessment as my body went into high alert, my nipples puckering into hard, aching points. “That’s your sex addled brain talking. Are you always this fired up about sex when you wake up in the morning?”

As soon as I said those words, I realized my mistake. It got so quiet and still it was as if the air had been sucked from the room. I wasn’t even sure if JD was breathing at this point.

My heart, however, was on the verge of beating out of my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I said, snatching my hand away from his stomach. However, before I could escape he grabbed my hand lightening quick and pressed it to his side.

“Don’t.”

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