Page 22 of My Brother's Roommate (Frisky Business 2)
“You’re unbelievable,” she mumbles once she finally catches her breath.
I join her with my head on the pillows again, watching her sleepy eyes flutter closed as she shifts back to her spot from before, her head tucked into the crook of my shoulder. I think I’m officially her human pillow.
“Sleepy,” she grumbles.
As she slips off to dreamland, I stare at the fire, watching the last of the embers fade to black as it dies out. The high I was riding follows suit, fading into a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach.
This isn’t just any gorgeous woman asleep in my arms. This is my roommate’s sister. And he would kill me if he knew.
Penelope’s words from earlier echo in my head. We could be good for each other, just for tonight. Meaning this can’t carry over into tomorrow. And I’ll make damn sure of that.
I’m wise enough to know lightning doesn’t strike twice. And I’ll never be good enough for a girl like Penelope.8* * *PENELOPEI can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that wakes me up so early.
Maybe it’s the soft light of daybreak bleeding through the windows, or the chill lingering in the air. Other potential culprits include the soft snores coming from the sleeping man beside me. Regardless, it can’t be much later than six a.m. when I blink out of my sleep and into the cold, white morning.
From the looks of it, the snow has stopped, although by the size of the drifts, I’m guessing it kept up late into the night. The sun is just above the horizon, scattering its rays over the bright white mounds of snow. It’s like a painting out there, a serene aftermath to last night’s storm.
But it doesn’t matter how pretty it is. It’s also freaking freezing. As my chill turn to full-on shivers, I cuddle closer to Wolfie in a desperate search for warmth.
He stirs, letting out a grumble as he turns toward me, gathering me up in his arms. “You cold?”
I nod, pulling the scratchy wool blanket up to my chin.
His body heat kept me warm most of the night, but without the fire, the house has gotten truly cold. It probably doesn’t help that my clothes are piled in a heap on the floor, and I certainly didn’t pack pajamas.
Regrets? I have none.
Wolfie shoves back the blankets and tugs on his boxers before trudging over to rebuild the fire. I watch him closely, admiring the way the morning light coats him in a warm, angelic glow.
Wolfie is no angel. He’s made that perfectly clear. But whatever demons from his past turned him into the rough, broken man he is today, he didn’t let them stop him last night.
I feel strangely proud. And now, watching the muscles of his back flex and contract as he rebuilds our fire, I’m praying he can keep those demons at bay long enough for him to open up again, or maybe long enough to let me touch him again.
It’s a dangerous thought. Especially with how masculine and delicious he looks wearing only boxers, building me a fire just because I said I was cold.
Once the fire is steadily burning, he returns to our nest of blankets, folding me back into his arms, his front to my back. His body is sturdy beneath me, but there’s a softness about him that I can’t quite describe. This man is full of beautiful contradictions.
“You sleep okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“Like a baby. What about you?”
He pulls me tighter to him until I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating between my shoulder blades. “Better than I have in months. Thanks for that.”
“I’m sure the bourbon may have helped too.”
A low chuckle vibrates through him. “Nah. I think it was mostly you.”
“Whatever you say,” I murmur, trying to play it cool. In reality, my chest is swelling with pride. I like knowing that I may have contributed to his anxiety subsiding for the night. Anything I can do to quiet that unease of his.
Shifting in his arms, I turn to meet Wolfie’s sleepy gaze, admiring how the firelight dances in his gray eyes. The flames bring out little specks of green that I’ve never noticed before. I guess there’s plenty about Wolfie that I’ve yet to discover, and I want to know it all. Starting with memorizing the way he kisses.
I close what’s left of the distance between us, and he captures my lips with his, our tongues touching in an easy, sleepy rhythm.
I’m relieved to find that what happened between us last night wasn’t just a dream. Every touch is curious and each caress is gentle. This man is such a contradiction, my head spins with each new side of him that’s revealed. As we kiss, his hand slips from my waist, tracing the curve of my hip with the pads of his fingers until he’s gently cupping the warmth between my thighs.
