Page 34 of Hidden Shadows
She forced her breath to remain steady as she whispered, “You’re safe, Nixon. You’re okay.”
At first, he kept growling and flinching, his chest moving so quickly that he couldn’t be getting a single deep breath.
She repeated the same words, reminding Nixon that he was safe. That he was okay. And that he wasn’t alone.
It took four more times for his movement to still. The noises to silence. Then, finally, his breathing evened out.
She didn’t move right away. She kept her forehead against his and her palm to his cheek, scared that he’d fall back into whatever hell he’d found himself in if she shifted. But she couldn’t stay here forever.
She was about to move when a word whispered from his lips.
“Finley…”
Her heart clenched in her chest. Did he know she was here? She needed to get the heck out of here before he fully woke and found her in his bed.
Carefully, she lifted her hand from his cheek and rolled to her other side. She was mid-escape when a strong arm slipped around her waist and pulled her back into a hot, hard body.
Her muscles tensed, her body freezing. She didn’t even take a breath.
Shit, shit, shit.
Slowly, she reached for his hand and tried to lift it. But the second she touched skin, the arm around her tightened, pulling her closer to the warm body behind her. Thealmost nakedwarm body, because Nixon was only wearing briefs.
Panic rattled in her chest.
What should she do? Stay? Wait for him to fall into a deeper sleep, then try again?
Yes. What other options did she have? She’d wait for him to go lax, then slip back to her room.
It would be fine.
She sighed and closed her eyes, letting his warmth, his hardness and strength, surround her. Calm her. Hold her.
CHAPTER12
The sweet mix of lilacs and honey scented the air around Nixon, piercing his sleep, pulling him to the surface.
Finley. She was here, with him. Why? How?
He flexed his hand, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingertips. Then he felt the rest of her. The heat of her arm around his waist. The softness of her cheek against his chest.
His pulse sped up, confusion pricking at his skull. He should get up. End this connection between them and get the answers he needed. But if he did that, this moment would be shattered. She’d wake, and he wouldn’t be holding her anymore. Her cheek wouldn’t be pressed to his heart.
And no part of him wanted this moment to end.
Slowly, he opened his eyes to find her sprawled against him, her hair spread over his bare skin. Her chest rose and fell in slow succession while each exhale brushed his skin in long strokes of heat.
She wore the shortest pajama shorts he’d ever seen, half her ass on full display. And her top had risen up her ribs so that a hell of a lot of skin was not only showing but touching him.
Parts of his body hardened that had no business hardening. Not only that, but something flickered in his chest. It was hot and primal, and he had no fucking clue how to navigate it.
What the hell was going on? They were in his room. The connecting door was open. So she’d come to him. Why? And why couldn’t he fucking remember her getting into bed with him? Hell, why hadn’t he woken when she had? He was a light sleeper. He usually woke at the slightest sound.
He knew the exact moment she woke. Her breathing changed rhythm from long, deep draws to shallow inhalations. Her hand moved across his bare stomach and chest in almost a caress, causing his dick to twitch, which he could only hope like hell she didn’t notice.
He expected her to push up. Say something. Instead, she remained completely still, maybe scared to move in case he was asleep and she woke him.
“Finley.”
