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He moved his arm then tugged on me gently, directing me to turn over and face him. I did and almost got mad because who the fuck looked so perfect first thing in the morning? No crust around his eyes, no evidence of drool, nothing. Hell, his breath probably smelled minty fresh. Aggravated, I frowned. He used his two middle fingers to rub between my eyebrows, soothing the wrinkle away.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“I’m cold, and you scared me,” I grumbled back.
I wasn’t a morning person, and being uncomfortable wasn’t helping my attitude. Targen shook his head as he stretched and stood. He stretched again, and my eyes widened at the play of muscles beneath the black A-shirt. And Lord, those arms—the muscles flexing under his caramel skin—had me riveted. Even more amazing was the morning wood that rested against his thigh, the joggers doing nothing to hide or restrain it.
I bet he’d have me climbing the walls.
I bet yo’ ass ain’t gon’ find out.
That internal battle raged as I stared at him, my hand going to my lips to make sure I wasn’t slobbing, the way my mouth was watering. Surprising me, he climbed right back into bed, this time under the covers.
“Bring yo’ pretty ass here since you cold.”
My eyes flew to his as I opened my mouth to say no. But something about those beautiful irises had me nodding. I made sure my cami was in place as he pulled me against him. Instantly, his body warmed me, and I sighed my pleasure as my eyelids drooped. Face against his chest, I let my body melt into his as I drifted into sleep. I don’t know how or why what happened next happened. I must’ve been out of my mind with sleep, because I slid one leg between his and threw my other one on top as I snuggled into him. Targen bent the powerful leg that was trapped between mine, bringing his thigh into contact with my center. Suddenly, the throbbing that had begun while I watched him stretch was back, even more intense. I couldn’t help it; I rocked just a little bit, grinding my clit against his rock-hard quads. I couldn’t hide the breathless little moan that escaped me. I did it again and felt myself grow wetter. This time when I moaned, Targen’s gold-flecked eyes heated until they looked molten.
“You prefer to warm up this way?” he murmured.
His hands crept to my waist, and he guided me back and forth along his thigh as he pressed up into me. It had been so long since I had this kind of stimulation and it felt so good. I rested my face against his shoulder as I rocked, chasing a long-denied sensation.
“Pussy so hot,milaya. I can feel it through our clothes. Fuck, Theory,” his voice rumbled from somewhere deep. “You wet for me?”
“Mm… mm-hmm,” I purred.
I rocked faster, grinding against him as greedy little sounds escaped my throat. He felt so good, and this wasn’t even the impressive package he carried between his legs. Just the thought of that, of him pulling out his dick and teasing then fulfilling me had me bucking harder.
“Look how you moving. I know you close. You gon’ cum, baby?”
“Y-yes. Targen, I?—"
“Let me help you. I wanna feel you,” he rasped, voice low.
I was so into it, into him, that I didn’t register what he said until I felt the warmth of his palm resting against my stomach as his fingers eased toward my waistband. For a second, I froze. Fear shot through me, not at the thought of his touch, but at the realization of what he would find. I tried to scramble out of his arms.
“No! Don’t! Please, don’t?—"
He let me go instantly, holding up his hands so that I could see them.
“Okay! Okay,milaya. I’m not touching you. I won’t touch you,” he promised softly.
The thought of that loss made me sad. I threw my arms around his neck and burrowed into him.
“Please don’t say that,” I begged, feeling miserable as I realized his arms hadn’t gone back around me.
This poor man didn’t know what to do. Slowly, he wrapped one arm around me, and I sighed in relief. I tried to think of what to say. I owed him an explanation that I wasn’t ready to give.
“I like when you touch me,” I said finally. “Just not ready for…there.”
“Okay,” he said softly.
Okay?That was all? Damn! Was he mad? Of course, he was mad. Who wouldn’t be mad? One minute, I was using him to get off. The next, I was acting like a scared virgin. I couldn’t blame him if?—
He squeezed me gently. Maybe he wasn’t mad. Maybe he?—
I sighed as my phone vibrated from the nightstand behind him. Wordlessly, he reached for it and handed it to me. My brow wrinkled when I saw the number.
“It’s my granny,” I said as I answered. “Granny Nette?”