Page 55 of Make Me Yours

Iwake slowly, surfacing from sleep like I’m swimming through fog. My head still aches, but it’s dull now. Less of a pounding and more of a persistent throb.

Manageable.

But something feels off.

Not wrong, just different.

There’s something warm and delicate pressed against me.

The faint scent of honey and vanilla wraps around me. It’s both comforting and familiar.

Even before I open my eyes, my pulse kicks. My body knows. Maybe my brain hasn’t fully caught up, but everythingelse has.

When I finally blink into the early morning light, the view stuns me into stillness.

Lilah is tucked against me, her legs tangled with mine, her cheek resting over my heart like she was always meant to be there. The tie of the robe she’s wearing has loosened during the night, and the plaid fabric has slipped so that it barely clings to her curves.

There’s smooth, creamy skin everywhere.

Her bare thigh is draped across me, and the dip of her waistis exposed beneath the open material, along with the gentle swell of her hip that peeks out just below the edge of the covers.

Jesus.

I don’t move as every muscle in my body goes rigid and my brain scrambles to process what the hell is happening.

Because this isn’t a dream or even one of those half-awake fantasies I’ve been torturing myself with since the night she moved in.

This is real.

Lilah Monroe is in my bed, wrapped around me, her exhalations steady as they fan across my collarbone. Her lips are parted slightly, and her face is peaceful in sleep.

All I can think about is how close we are and how damn right it feels.

How completely bowled over I am by her without her even trying.

She shifts, and her lips brush the skin just above my heart.

Fuck.

My control, already fragile, splinters completely apart.

I clench the sheets, as if that will somehow anchor me to reality, giving me the necessary restraint.

Because there’s no way I can touch her.

Even though all I want to do is run my hands over her.

Her lashes flutter, and for a second, she doesn’t move. She doesn’t seem to realize where she is. She simply nestles closer, releasing a contented sigh that undoes me in ways I don’t have words for.

We stay like that, suspended in quiet, for just a moment as her eyelashes feather shut again and our bodies remain tangled.

When her eyes blink open for a second time, she freezes. Her body stiffens against mine as the realization of where she is and who she’s lying against sinks in. Her gaze flicks to mine, and for a moment, our eyes lock.

“Oh my God,” she chokes out, bolting upright so fast she nearly tumbles off the bed. She grabs the sheets and yanks them up to her collarbone like I haven’t already seen more than that robe was ever meant to hide.

I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips as I prop myself up on one elbow and watch her unravel. “Morning, lucky charm.”

Her cheeks flush a deep, gorgeous shade of red as she clutches the blankets tighter. “Steele, we… um… we didn’t…”