Page 68 of Things We Hide from the Light
Okay. I needed a plan. I always had a plan and a backup plan, plus two or three contingencies.
I just needed to block out that insane desire for Nash to angle those hips up. Yep. Just block out the needy little throbs and focus on how to get out of this situation without humiliating myself.
Dear Lord.
It was an ocean of wetness down there. Which was worse, my hot neighbor thinking I’d wet the bed or my hot neighbor realizing I’d put us in a compromising position, gotten turned on, and then leaked sex juice everywhere?
Maybe I could blame it on the dog?
I was mulling over my options along with potential solutions on how to mop us both up without waking him when Nash gave a little groan behind me.
I was confident I could have dealt with the inherent sexiness of that raspy moan had it not also been accompanied by the gentlest shift of his hips. That tiny thrust set off an explosive chain reaction.
The crown of his cock slid forward and nudged that demanding bundle of nerves. At the same time, the hand clamped around my breast flexed, brushing pebbled nipple to rough palm.
And that was all it took.
I came against the hot head of his erection, muffling a moan with my hand. My hips bucked involuntarily as the orgasm fluttered through me, curling my toes and contracting every muscle in my body.
Congratulations, me. It was a new low. Orgasming on a sleeping man’s cock. It was basically assault.
“Mmm. You okay, Angel?” Nash asked sleepily, his face buried in my hair, lips brushing my neck.
Well, hell.He was awake. There was no way I could just casually mop up his crotch now.
“Yep,” I squeaked. “Totally fine. Just a…charley horse.”In my vagina, I added silently.
It took a beat, but Nash tensed behind me again. Which caused that talented erection to poke me in the clit again.
The whimper clawed its way up my throat.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry,” Nash said, scrambling away from me under the covers. “I didn’t mean—”
“You know what? I think I’ll take a rain check on breakfast,” I said in a high-pitched voice that sounded like my mother’s I’m-pretending-I’m-not-upset-even-though-it’s-clear-I-am-upset tone. I rolled twice to get to the edge of the bed and tried to sit up.
But I didn’t make it that far.
Nash grabbed a fistful of T-shirt and pulled me back.
“Baby, are you okay?”
Mortified, I hooked my fingers over the edge of the mattress and hung on. “I’m totally fine. I just really need to go away now.”
“Angel, please look at me,” Nash begged. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you like that.”
He rolled me onto my back and pinned me with one hand. I saw the moment he realized his dick was out. His spectacular, girthy, ten out of ten dick.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” His other hand slipped down between us and yanked the waistband of his underwear up over his erection.
My cheeks were so hot I could have fried eggs on them if I knew how to.
“Oh my God. What are you sorry for?” I said, slapping my hands to my flaming cheeks.
“I promised I wouldn’t do…that,” he said. He was so angry, so horrified, I couldn’t let him take the blame.
His mouth was apologizing—unnecessarily—to me, but I was paying more attention to his cock and the fact that it seemed to be having a tough time getting interested in going soft.
I moved my hands from my cheeks to his. “Nash. I was the one who invaded your side. You were a sleep gentleman. I promise. I woke up a few minutes ago and I was the one who didn’t immediately remove my body from your body’s vicinity.”
