Page 39 of The Right to Remain Mine

Completely awake now, she waited a minute until he stopped moving. Then she reached over, turned on the night lamp and rolled around to make sure it was really him back there. Of course it was, but she'd never had some guy sneak into her room in the middle of the night and make hot, intense love to her without once turning on a light.

It was a little exciting not seeing his face through any of it. Now that it was over, however, she looked at him fully, appreciating how handsome he was. She reached out and touched his black hair. For such a rough and rowdy guy, he sure had silky soft hair. It was beautiful. She let herself enjoy running her fingers through what little of it he had let grow.

Suddenly, she realized what she was doing. This was the same man who'd snuck from her bed a week ago without saying goodbye and hadn't talked to her since. Now he trespassed back into her home as if he owned the place and crawled into her bed with every confidence she'd let him stay. And here she was, letting him stay.

Pulling her hand from where she'd lovingly planted it in his short locks, she frowned when he murmured in his sleep, letting her know he didn't want her to quit stroking him.

"Hey," she said, jabbing him into the fleshy sensitive part of his ribs, just under his arm where she'd seen his sister nudge him to get his attention.

He answered with an irritated, half-conscious grunt.

"Oh, no, you don't."

"Hmm," he mumbled sleepily. "Don't what?"

"Wake your butt up. Damn it, Malloy. How dare you come in here uninvited and rouse me from a dead sleep only to wham, bam me and then pass out like nothing just happened?"

He groaned like a rebelling child being forced to eat all the vegetables on his plate. Then, patting her on the butt, he said, "Thank you, ma'am," after which he slung a heavy arm over her hip and asked, "There. Now can I get some freaking rest?"

Unable to believe he would dare, Willow gasped. "Hell, no. You're the one who jerked me from a nice, peaceful dream. Now, get up and talk to me until I fall back to sleep."

"Talk?" He said the word as if he'd never heard it before.

"You know," she helped. "Stringing a list of words together to form complete sentences and then speaking them to another person. It's called conversation."

"What in the world do you want to talk about?" He sounded dumbfounded. "You can't want to know if it was good for me. I think that was pretty obvious. And if you were trying to keep it a secret how it was for you, then you should've been a little less vocal when you came."

"Oh, my God, Malloy," she growled, jerking to a sitting position and swinging around to ream him a new one because she'd never met a man with so much insolence. "I cannot believe you said—"

Willow stopped talking midsentence, distracted by the heap he'd left on the floor. "Did you just get off work?"

She couldn't seem to take her eyes away from his duty belt crumpled to the carpet on top of his bulletproof vest and combat boots. It was interesting to see all the things cops wrapped around their waists when they went to work. Good thing Malloy was such a big guy; if he were any skinnier, there was no way he would be able to fit all that stuff around his hips. Twisting at the waist, she frowned at him in confusion.

"But you were working earlier today at the courthouse. Shouldn't you have gotten off duty hours ago?"

"Mmm," he answered at first, only to wet his lips. Finally, he cracked open one eye and glanced up at her. "I worked a double. We had an officer quit."

"Oh," Willow said. She watched him lie there a moment, his eyes reclosing and his lashes resting against his cheeks.

He looked exhausted. She wanted to reach out and cuddle him.

"If you're so hog-wild to talk," he mumbled, opening both eyes this time to point a scowl up at her, "what was wrong with speaking to me earlier today at the courthouse? I didn't see you demanding a conversation then."

She blinked, surprised by the accusing tone in his voice. She hadn't expected him to be irked over it. Because, well—

Scowling in realization, she set her hands on her hips. "You know, you didn't exactly race over to talk to me, either."

The arrogant, pin-headed man. If he had made one move to talk to her, she would've given him every bit of her attention. God, she probably would've dragged him to the nearest bathroom and had her wicked way with him. It was somewhat funny to think about now. She'd been aware of no one but him from the moment she'd spotted him huddled with the other uniformed men. And here, he thought she hadn't even noticed him. What a joke.

The only reason she hadn't immediately gone straight toward him was because he'd been surrounded by his friends, and she really hadn't been in the mood to watch all his cop buddies eye her like a piece of free meat. She'd been so sure he would've told everyone about their extra-curricular activities. He'd scored with the judge's pretty daughter. Woohoo.

When she finally realized none of them had a clue, she—

Her mood turning a complete one-eighty, Willow suddenly leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth. "Thank you."

He blinked repeatedly, looking dazed. "For what?"

"For not turning me into some kind of trashy locker room gossip." She sighed. "You can't imagine how many men have claimed they've been with me when they never have. You, on the other hand, would've actually been telling the truth, yet you told no one." She beamed gratefully.

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