Page 35 of Menace in Vegas

Connor is already in bed, looking way too comfortable.

I hate him.

I slowly climb under the covers, staying as far on my side as possible.

The bed dips when he rolls, and I tense.

It’s fine.

I’ll just go to sleep and forget today ever happened.

I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing.

Slowly, my tense muscles relax.

Warm breaths graze my ear. "You’ve got a strong grip, sweetheart."

I physically convulse.

Connor turns away, laughing into his pillow.

I shove my face into my pillow.“I hate you,”I mutter.

He chuckles, rolling onto his back, utterly smug. “Didn’t seem like it when you were grabbing my junk.”

I fume but remain silent.

"Sleep tight, Payne."

* * *

I wakeup warm and comfortable.

And… trapped?

I blink groggily, trying to process where I am.

Then I feel a warm, solid chest beneath me.

A thick, muscular thigh between mine.

Large, rough hands gripping my waist.

No.

It can’t be….

I lift my head one inch to check, and come face to face with Connor Byrns.

Oh. My. God.

I’m lying on top of him!

His gray eyes open, dark and unreadable.

The bastard smirks.

"Well, good morning to you, too, sweetheart."

---