Page 19 of Rockstar Rescue
Goosebumps rise on my arms—though I can't tell if it's from the chill or from anticipation.
I sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking under my weight.
"I agree,” I say, my breath catching with anticipation.
“Just one kiss."
I wanted to say it in a matter of fat kind of tone.
Like an exasperated nurse would tell her patient.
But it doesn’t come out that way.
It comes out as more of a whisper as I draw my lips near.
God, he's gorgeous. An actual rock star, right here in my bed while the storm howls outside, rattling the windows.
I lean closer, inhaling deeply. His skin smells like Irish Spring soap I used mixed with something else—something raw and masculine that makes the area between my legs grow moist.
No fancy cologne, just him. I press my lips against that perfect spot where his neck meets his shoulder.
His skin is warm and soft. Maybe it’s the influence of the full moon, my raging hormones, but I have to fight the urge to use my teeth.
I want to taste him, to mark him.
Heat floods between my legs, and I have to remind myself: "Don't sleep with the patient.”
But my body isn't listening anymore.
It takes every ounce of self-control I have to pull back. My lips tingle where they touched his skin.
"No nookie with the patient," I tell myself firmly, though my body disagrees completely.
I force myself to draw back, but can't look away from his face. His eyes have gone dark, pupils wide.
"What kind of goodnight kiss was that?" he asks, voice husky.
"A good night and sleep well kiss," I say, my own voice betraying me with its breathiness.
"Nurse Nancy," he says with a playful pout, making an exaggerated show of shivering under the thin blanket. "It's frigid here. I might not last until morning."
I touch his arm. It’s cold to my touch. The bedroom is definitely chillier than the living room with its crackling fire.
"You’re right! You’re freezing. You’ll be toasty warm by the fire. We can switch places," I offer, trying to sound professional. "If you don't mind sleeping on the sofa."
"I don't know," he says, stretching his long body on my bed, the movement pulling the blanket lower on his hips. “But I don't think I have the energy to move. Maybe if you come over and warm me up a little bit, I'll be okay."
I bite my lip, knowing I should refuse, but my feet are already carrying me toward him.
"Alright, just one cuddle."
Charlie's large paws thump against the hardwood as he trots into the room. He settles down beside the bed with that loopy doggy grin, as if he wants to watch the show.
”How's this for warmth?" I whisper, pressing my body against his. The heat between us feels electric, dangerous.
"Nice," Dylan murmurs, gathering my hair in his fist and pulling it gently away from my neck.
His lips find my collarbone, and I shiver as his warm breath tickles my skin. "Very nice."
