Page 90 of Siren's Game

As much as she says she dislikes being touched, she tends to snuggle up while she’s asleep. Just like now. She's draped all over me, like an octopus, her soft breath feathering against my throat, her lips only millimeters away from my skin as she has me in her tight grasp.

She looks so relaxed. So serene. I turn a bit until I lay on my side and can look at her better, lifting my hand to softly brush a strand of her hair away from her face.

I hated seeing her anxious yesterday, eyes darting as her heart raced and she searched an escape, her fingers nervously tapping against the closest surface in an attempt to calm herself.

Millie was right when she put me in my place.

I should have interfered with the situation so much earlier, should have nipped it right in the bud before it even had a chance to unfold, because it was so damned obvious where it would be going.

Kayla didn’t have to tell me for me to know that she’s insecure about people sticking by her. I really have to work on my people skills, but I am sure if Kayla will let me, I can learn to read her like a book, understand her language and know which pages to flick.

And I just have to hope that she will stick around long enough for me to show her that I’m serious. The next time someone even looks at her crossly, I'll jump in like a vicious Chihuahua defending their owner and bite those sexist motherfuckers’ calves. Maybe not literally, but definitely verbally.

I was making all kinds of plans to win her back. Camp in front of her door until she talked to me, beg for forgiveness, stalk her like a man out of his mind. The more tequila flowed down my throat, the wilder my ideas got, right up until I heard that knock on my door.

I could have cried in relief that she was there.

No way was I going to sleep on my own, all of my thoughts were occupied with her, and I was counting on the alcohol to put me to sleep. As soon as she stepped inside, even before she started talking, she silenced those thoughts and all I wanted was to go to bed and have her in my arms.

And when I did. I fell asleep immediately. What a fucking day.

Now, I feel like shit. My head hurts and my mouth tastes like death. But I also don't want to get up for some painkillers. I'd rather have my head hurt than move and wake her up.

A small sound escapes the back of Kayla's throat, and she nudges her nose against my skin as she slowly comes awake, her long eyelashes fluttering as she blinks her eyes open slowly.

For a moment, her eyes grow wide and she tenses, even stopping to breathe. Then she relaxes again, probably as she remembers how she got here, and takes a deep breath before closing her eyes again and rubbing her chin against my shoulder.

"Morning, Sweetheart," I say softly, not able to stop the smile tugging at my lips, and press my lips against her forehead. It's all I can reach from this position, and since my mouth tastes like a dead raccoon, thanks to the tequila, it's all she'll get for now.

"Morning,Honey," she answers, her voice hoarse from sleep, and lets out a long, contented sigh as she tightens her hold on me the slightest bit.

I lock my hands behind the small of her back, stroking it with my thumb as she shuffles even closer. For a while, we stay just like that.

Just hugging. Breathing each other in. Fuck sex. Well, no, maybe not, but this is the most intimate thing to ever happen to me.

She’s like a cat. Flinching or freezing whenever she’s touched in public, ready to sharpen her claws and slit your throat or leave deep scratches in your skin. Even when Millie links her arm with hers, you can see that she’s not thrilled.

But right now?

She can’t get enough. She scoots over, trying to get closer, until I almost fall off my bed. And it’s a damned queen size bed. Yet she wants closer, as if she wants to crawl into my skin.

"I'd love to stay here, but I really need to pee," she admits softly after a while, and both of us tremble with my chuckle.

She lifts herself up with a dissatisfied groan and I let her go, but not without a pout on my lips.

My eyes trail after her as she crosses the room, her long, naked legs moving gracefully with each step and the curve of her ass a teasing sight under the hem of the black metal-band shirt I wore before the event yesterday.

Damn, I could watch her walk around in my clothes all day. Any other day, that sight would be enough to pull her back into bed and fuck her until her morning-hoarse voice gives out.

Just before she turns the corner to the bathroom, she halts, looking at me over her shoulder and shooting me a wink.

Holy crap, this woman. I rub my hand over my face, disbelief shooting through me.

She really came here. She really chose me.

Fuck, I can’t believe it.

With a happy sigh, I rub my hand over my face and get up, trudging to the kitchen to start my coffee machine and check out the breakfast situation while the coffee runs through. Because who needs a fancy automatic coffee machine if you can have a good old filter one?

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