Page 41 of On The Rocks

The woman wiggled back against me, and I bit back a groan. Hangover or no hangover, Lennon Hathaway would always have me standing at attention.

Her warm skin was softer than I could have imagined, but her compact body was all fluid muscle and curves that fit me a little too perfectly.

Dangerously perfect.

And because she was in my arms, I indulged in the weight of her against me. I dragged in the scent of her hair, which was so different than the warm spice of her perfume. Lennon wasn’t the type to linger in anyone’s space, let alone mine.

Her in my bed was obviously a mistake. We were still wearing clothes, which was something. I damn well would remember everysecondof getting naked with this woman.

I blew out a breath and stared at my ceiling, trying to recall anything from the night before. Moonshine with Hayes—that fucker—and Laverne. Something sweet and spicy from the kitchen, and then…we’d ended up here.

Somehow.

Lennon shifted against me again with a little groan, scooting lower into the heat of my body. My hand, which was already under her shirt, now cupped her breast.

And it fit like it was made for me.

Jesus.

How did we end up like this?

Was she going to wake up and de-ball me?

She wiggled again, this time, rolling over. My fingers slid around to her back, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. A handful of her glorious breast or having both of them pressing against my chest as she tucked her face into my neck.

With her thigh tucked between my legs, there was nothing but warm Lennon touching every part of me.

A perfect tangle of limbs.

Which never happened.

The first time I slept with a woman—actualsleeping—it was always a bit awkward. Not like this.

I pressed my cheek to the side of her head and absorbed the closeness.

I didn’t deserve it, but just then, I didn’t care.

It filled in an ache I wasn’t aware I’d been living with.

I coasted my hand up under her shirt to her shoulder, then down to the dip of her lower back and returned for another pass.

She sighed against my neck all liquid, soft female in my arms.

For a moment.

Then she sucked in a breath and stiffened in my embrace.

I was tempted to fake sleeping. Would she just slip out of my bed and disappear?

Could I pretend it never happened?

“How long have you been awake?” Her voice was as husky and warm as a good whiskey.

“A few terrifying minutes.”

I could feel her lips curve against my neck. Was that a smile?

Or was she preparing to push her knee up and bounce my balls into my throat?

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