Page 7 of Sniper

“What do you mean we’re sharing this room?” My chest pounded hard in my chest while Sniper looked cool and calm. “I already picked out a room.” And it was the perfect size for one person. Me.

Unfazed, Sniper glared at me with that bored expression he always wore when those green eyes landed on me. “Yeah, well, if you bothered to talk to any of the nice people around the clubhouse you would know that room belongs to someone already.” I motioned to the double room that was big enough for two and smiled. “This room is our room. You’re my wife and this isn’t a fucking hotel.”

Oh, I really hated him. “I’ll sleep on the sofa,” I insisted angrily.

Sniper shrugged. “Fine by me.” His lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh but he had amazing self-control as he made his way to the door. “If you want to stop being a spoiled brat, we’re hanging out.” He didn’t even wait for an answer before he stepped out of the room and shut the door.

On the other side of the door, a party raged. Loud rock music pumped and rattled the walls. The hum of multiple conversations felt like they were happening all around me instead of from another part of the building. “Glad everyone is having a good time while my life is falling apart.” I grumbled, angry and hurting. Not that it was their fault my life was theway it was, still, the sounds of fun and laughter hurt. “I’ll just stay here. By myself. In my room.”Our room, my inner voice corrected automatically.

My stomach growled but I ignored it once again, and instead I got ready for bed. I’d worry about food tomorrow. Maybe. Food hadn’t held much appeal to me since I left Ethan for good. I ate for fuel and to stop my silly stomach from growling uncontrollably and not a bite more.

As a doctor I knew that I had lost a lot of weight. Probably too much to be considered healthy, but I had other things to worry about, such as staying alive. It was certainly a major source of my constant fatigue, in addition to never getting a full night of sleep and the nonstop worry about Ethan catching up to me. So yeah, food could come later.

First, survival.

I washed my face, and it wasn’t enough to wash off the day. It wasn’t enough to wash away the fact that I was married to a man I wasn’t in love with and who I’d be sharing a room with. I jumped into the shower and cranked the water as hot as I could stand it, washing until my skin was pink and near raw. I washed my hair until it squeaked and stepped out, taking my time until I was bone dry before leaving the bathroom.

I stepped out and glanced at the sofa that looked like its heyday was in the nineteen eighties and then at the bed. It wasn’t much better, but the mattress looked newishand there was a distinct lack of springs to poke me in unfortunate places. “Screw that.” I marched over to the bed, pulled back the covers and slipped inside.

Sleep came surprisingly quick, faster than I expected. Hell, faster than it had come in the past two and a half years.There was no tossing or turning, no restlessness either. Just the deep slumber of someone who’d been sleep deprived for years. It was a perfect sleep.

And warm. So warm that I kicked the blankets off one leg and snuggled closer to the heat. And the firmness. No, not firm but hard. Rock hard but notjustrock hard. It was decidedly masculine and rock hard.

Masculine?

Fear kicked me in the gut, and I pushed back as hard and as fast as I could. Too fast because my ass, my back, and my head hit the ground and I let out a grunt, waiting to get my breath back before I grabbed my clothes and took off. “Fuck,” I whispered to avoid waking up the male intruder.

“Katey,” a familiar voice growled. “Are you all right?”

Sniper.

My body relaxed almost instantly, which I hated because he was not a man I should relax around. “Why are you in the bed?” I sat up and glared at him. “I thought… I mean… fuck.” I didn’t want to admit to him that I thought I was back in hell and that the warm body pressed against me belonged to my ex.

His gaze softened as he sat up and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep my eyes on his face and not on his sculpted body. Not on his tattoos. Not on that nasty scar that went from the right side of his belly button and around his side. I didn’t notice any of it and my mouth definitely didn’t water. “You said you were sleeping on the couch.”

I shrugged and turned my gaze away. “I figured since you were partying all night, you wouldn’t notice where you slept.”

He grinned and dammit, it was beautiful. “I was sleeping just fine until you threw yourself out the bed.”

I blew out a long breath and got to my feet. “I slept too well last night. Forgot where I was. Who was beside me.” I held my breath and waited for him to mock me or offer fake platitudes.

“Good, you’re gonna need your sleep.” He flung himself backwards and that damn sheet slid lower, confirming that he did in fact have that hot as fuck vee carved into his hips.

“We can’t share a bed,” I shrieked.

“The couch is all yours, just as you requested.Wife.” He chuckled and that sound was surprisingly rich and warm. “But I’m not opposed to sharing a bed.”

My body tensed at the heat in his words. “We’re not married.”

“I think you’ll find that the wedding license says otherwise.”

“Notreallymarried,” I corrected him.

He shrugged. “Did you share a bed with Ethan?”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around my waist. “Whether I wanted to or not.” Those words were just the reminder I needed to keep my anger close.

Sniper’s expression changed, first to anger and then to understanding. “I’m not gonna force myself on you Katey, that’s not what this is about. But,” he sat up and let his gaze rake over my body for a long second and then he sighed. “I am not sleeping on that fucking couch. I’m too big and it’s barely comfortable to sit on. You can sleep next to me, and I promise your virtue will besafe.” Sincerity shone in his green eyes, and I wanted to believe him, which was exactly the reason I shouldn’t.

---