Page 132 of Boyfriend of the Hour

Did I hate it?

Not even close.

I shifted slightly, and—What is that?

I froze as I realized that, yes, the erection I’d teased him about so mercilessly the night before was definitely wedged between my legs. Not only that, but it appeared to be taking its revenge for me being a brat about it. Somehow, it had popped out of the opening in his briefs and slipped directly between my thighs. Which were also not helping things by quickly, er, lubricating the situation.

The arm around my waist tightened as if in reflex, and a low growl emitted behind my ear as Nathan pulled me against himin his sleep. His hips tilted into my ass, and the entirety ofhimslipped another inch closer to home.

I should have jumped up. I should have shouted, “OH MY GOD, IT’S A CARDINAL IN THE WINDOW,” hit Nathan with a pillow, and launched into the tap dance routine I did for my eighth-grade production ofThe Music Man. Literally, anything to break this horrible, torturous, delicious tension. Something other than lying here, breathing hard, and tryingnotto spread my legs just enough for the tip of him to find me. The last thing he needed was to wake up already having sex with the woman he’d said quite clearly wasnota person he wanted to date in reality.

Just pretend.

We were just pretend.

And this…wasn’t pretending.

Nor was it consenting.

I squeezed my legs together—which did not help my problem, by the way, since now I could feel the entire length of him wedged between my thighs.

Nathan groaned, and the hand at my waist moved up to cup my breast. “Need you,” he mumbled, his deep voice thick with sleep.

It wasn’t me. I just had to keep telling myself. It wasn’tmehis body wanted like this first thing in the morning. Just like it wasn’tmethat he’d gathered in his arms while he slept.

He’d had a serious relationship once, before he became an eminent surgeon. Maybe it was her who sparked dreams like the one he was currently having.

An unreasonable pang of jealousy sprouted in my gut as I wondered what kind of woman would inspire that in Nathan. She was probably just like him—someone accomplished, intelligent, self-assured. Someone who had her shit together.Someone who deserved his brand of frank compassion and kindness.

Someone who had let him go. Because I was somehow sure that’s what happened. I didn’t know Nathan well, but I knew he was loyal. I knew he made commitments and didn’t go back on his word. I knew he was there for others, even when he didn’t want to be. I knew he worked hard to please his family and the people he loved. And that if he had loved someone else, he would have never left her of his own accord.

Which meant she had left him.

For a moment, I hated her. I hated this woman who had, in some way, treated this quiet, incredible man like garbage. I hated her for not knowing what she had because if she did, she would have never tossed him aside like he was nothing.

I hated her because, for just a moment, I wished I was her.

I wished someone like me could ever have a legitimate chance with someone like him.

And then I hated myself for knowing I never would.

“Come here,” Nathan rumbled, clearly still asleep.

Just like he was still in dreamland when he nuzzled behind my ear and thrusted his hips against my ass again as the hand over my breast kneaded softly. His cock slipped further between my thighs, and this time, I couldn’t help but moan as it tickled my slick entrance.

The effect was immediate. The hand on my breast squeezed just before he flipped me around in his arms, slipped a hand around my nape, and kissed me. Hard.

I moaned again, knowing I should break the kiss, but unable to do it. His mouth was so warm and insistent, even in sleep. His grip so intense. Addictive, even.

Then Nathan’s eyelashes blinked against my cheeks. And he proceeded to fly off me like a bat out of hell. “Jesus!”

I remained curled up in the other direction while I listened to the sounds of him scrambling off the bed, swearing lightly to himself, then quietly pulling some clothes out of his dresser. I didn’t dare move. Not until I could get my expression together and convincingly play the Girl Who’s Been Asleep the Whole Time.

I rolled over just as Nathan had put on his glasses and was making for the door in nothing but his plaid pajama pants.

With daylight dappling his bare chest and stepladder abs, the man looked even more delicious than he had last night, even half-asleep and clearly freaked out. His hair was mussed, and his lips were swollen from the kiss.

I wondered if they were throbbing like mine.