Page 49 of Stunner (Whiskey Dolls 3)

ASHER

Something tugged at my consciousness, forcing me from a deep, dreamless sleep. It was the sensation of being watched, and I didn’t understand it until I fluttered my eyes open against their will and found Owen staring down at me.

“Morning,” he said in a sleep-husky voice that made my belly swoop. His green eyes penetrated me as he stared from where he was lying on his side, his head propped in his hand. He looked like an Adonis in bed next to me, the early morning sunlight streaming through his blinds and kissing all that muscly, golden skin of his.

“What are you doing, you creeper?”

“Watching you sleep.” His free hand brushed stands of hair from my forehead. “You really are hideous first thing in the morning.”

I snorted loudly and buried my face into my pillow to muffle my laughter. When I looked back at him, the most brilliant smile wreathed his face, threatening to steal my breath. “I know what you mean,” I teased back, enjoying the little game he’d started. “My view is pretty vomit-inducing.” I sneered like I smelled something disgusting, and Owen pounced, levering himself overme and tickling my ribs until I was laughing hysterically and thrashing around, trying to get away.

“All right! All right! I didn’t mean it!” I giggled. “You’re okay-looking in the morning, I guess.”

His arms banded around me as he shifted our positions so I was stretched out on top of him. He propped his head on a stack of pillows, and I rested my chin on his chest, both of us content to just look at one another for a bit.

Finally he spoke, breaking the silence. “How’d you sleep, sweetheart?”

“Like a log. You have the world’s most comfortable bed,” I answered on a stretch, smiling at the delicious pull of my overused muscles. “I didn’t think I’d enjoy sleeping naked, but you wore me out so thoroughly, my head hit the pillow, and I was out for the night.

Owen’s forehead crinkled. “You’ve never slept naked before?”

I shook my head. “I’m always in PJs or a nightgown. What do you sleep in?”

“Not a damn thing,” he said, giving me a little thrill. “I hate being restricted. What about... when you’re dating someone?” he hedged, and I knew exactly what he was asking.

“Jacksonhatedsleeping naked, and he wasn’t a big fan of me doing it either. He was always worried about bodily fluids on the sheets.” I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue as Owen let out a bark of laughter.

“You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Not at all. And he slept in monogrammed pajama sets. You know, the kind with the pants and the button-down collared shirts? He had a different pair for every night. Each a different color.”

“You’re lying,” he chuckled, his grin creasing the skin at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear!” I cried on a laugh. “I’m telling you the God’s honest truth.”

He sucked in a breath after a good, long, laugh, his expression growing pensive. “You know, I woke up this morning scared that last night had only been a dream. Then I rolled over and saw you beside me. Best fucking thing to wake up to, baby.”

Oh man! He was good with words.

I reached up and caressed his cheek as emotion clogged my throat, making it difficult to speak past the lump that had formed. “Last night was the best date I’ve ever been on,” I managed to say on a whisper. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

He grabbed hold of my wrist and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he twisted his head to place the most tender kiss right over my thrumming pulse. I remained silent as he worked to gather himself. Truth be told, I needed a moment myself. If this had been a few months ago, I wouldn’t have expected to feel anything other than contempt for this man. But he had me feeling so many unexpected, intense, world-shifting things, I was struggling to remember which way was up and which was down.

“Come on,” he said a handful of seconds later. Throwing the covers back, he swung his legs over the side of the mattress and rose to his feet, completely at ease in his nakedness, anddamn,he had every right to be. The man had the body artists wanted to replicate, and those tattoos only made it more tantalizing.

“What? Where are we going?” I asked as I snuggled deeper into his bed, burrowing under the covers. The very last thing I wanted to do was leave the cozy cloud-like warmth that smelled just like him.

“It’s rise-and-shine time. I’ll put on some coffee and make you breakfast.” He looked over his shoulder as he pulled on apair of boxer briefs and winked, making my lady parts quiver. “I know how you are before coffee, so that takes precedence over all else.”

Such a smart man. There was only one problem.

I sat up, holding the sheet around me to my bare breasts. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

He moved to his dresser, pulling out a faded tee and a pair of boxers, then moved back toward the bed, crawling toward me so he could drop the articles in my lap and place a quick, searing kiss against my lips. “This worked for us last time,” he said, reminding me of that first morning I awoke in his bed. The morning that started it all and led us to where we were now.

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