Page 55 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

I had to get out of here.

“Holden.” I slapped his arm. “Holden, wake up. Someone roofied you and deposited you in my bed.”

He groaned and gave me one more squeeze before he frowned and opened his eyes. His eyes were bleary, his hair unruly, and he looked so sexy, sleepy, and delicious.

He let me go and jerked back on the bed like I burned him.

“Good morning, Coyote Ugly.” His voice was low and hoarse with sleep and I twinged again between my legs. His gaze dropped to my chest before he rubbed a hand over his face. I twinged again.

Stop that, I told my ladyparts.

“I wasn’t aware the Sasquatch slept. I thought he did all his skulking in the forest at night,” I said, pulling the covers up high on my chest. My face warmed. “So, awkward question. Did we—?” I made a hand motion between us.

I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be. If we did, well, that would make things awkward. Also, if Holden and I had sex, I wanted to be present and remember it.

He grimaced. “No.”

A lick of disappointment hit me at his expression. “You don’t need to act all repulsed by me.”

I’d admit I was curious how it would be with us. He had kissed me like he wanted me, and I couldn’t help but picture him moving over top of me while I moaned. I replayed him gripping my hips hard and groaning over and over again.

“You were blackout drunk,” he told me.

“What?” I blanched in shock. “No, I wasn’t. All I drank were those cordial things. I only had three or four.”

“No,” he said, “You had like eight. And cordial is liqueur. And then you did three tequila shots.”

Ooooh. The music. Dancing. Laughing with Olivia. Olivia asking me how many I had drank.

I cringed. “I got drunk.”

He nodded, eyes on my face, expression indiscernible. “Yep.”

“What else did I do?”

He sat up fast. “Nothing. I stayed because I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit.”

“Nice.” I gave him a thumbs up. The morning boner meant nothing. “Really nice.” I rolled over with the full intention of sleeping for six years.

“Hey.” He patted my leg. “Get up.”

“Don’t you have a job to go to?” I mumbled into the pillows.

“We’re finishing the bathrooms today.”

I raised my head with a questioning glance. “It’s Monday. You don’t take days off.”

He exhaled a frustrated breath. “I moved some things around.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s fine.” His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to get that?”

“I’m going to get coffee and breakfast and when I get back, I want you in the shower.”

I pictured Holden and I in the shower, him pinning me against the tiles with his hips, bucking into me while I gasped and came all over the thick length pressed into me this morning.

A rush of heat hit me between the legs and I stared at him.

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” He disappeared out the door and stomped down the stairs. “Ten minutes,” he called up the stairs.

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