Page 27 of Pride and Protest

How could he sleep with that ass resting on his leg, those breasts threatening to burst out of that shirt? That pursed mouth dying to be shut up with a kiss?

“Your sister was right. You’re a night snuggler.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, sir. That was not a snuggle.”

“Just keep your body parts to yourself,” Dorsey said. When she didn’t move, he patted her bottom with the back of his hand. She nearly hit her head on the hatch door in surprise. He stuffed a pillow in the space she made, re-creating his impenetrable border. “Now, stay over there.”

Minutes passed. Had it been an hour?Okay. This wasn’t terrible.He was warm. He was comfort—

No.

Liza’s thigh frog-legged over his middle. His cock rocketed to life, and he instinctively palmed the inside of her thigh to lift it off and away from his now-straining midsection.

“Liza,” Dorsey whispered. It sounded like a plea. Liza turned to the other side with a heavy sigh. Dorsey turned also so they would be back to back. He was trapped with his penis boring a hole through his slacks. He cracked the hatch door for a burst of frigid air. It cooled the beads of sweat accumulating on his brow. But the cold was so harsh and uninviting that he immediately slammed the hatch door shut. The sound jolted Liza awake.

“Oh my goodness, what now?” Liza’s voice was thick with sleep.

“Liza, keep your body”—he paused—“over there.”

“Dorsey.” He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “It’s just a body. Don’t worry, you can’t catch poverty by contact.”

“I’m not afraid of catching poverty. I’m trying to get somesleep.” Dorsey turned to face her.Let her see what her reckless snuggling has done to me.But the pod was too dark.

“Don’t blame your guilt-ridden insomnia on me nudging you once in a while in your sleep.”

“Nudging? That was not a nudge.” This woman was insane.

“I’m being fair to you by even admitting that I touched you. I’ve been adhering to my side of the pod pretty well actually.”

“You’re delusional. Your body was way over the line.”

“Show me. Show me what I did that was so out of line,” she said. Always a challenge with Liza.

“I don’t have to show you. Take my word for it,” Dorsey said. Sounding all of seven years old.

“Then you’re exaggerating.” Liza rose up on her elbow. Lord, but this woman could actually have all of him wrapped up with a bow right now.

“Then I’ll show you,” he said.

Dorsey pulled at her thigh again, palming the inner part near the knee, then stretching it over his middle. In the dark, there was no seeing, only feeling. She must have felt his erection. God, he was metastatic with desire for her. It had started in his fingertips hours ago. Now, it was everywhere. She exhaled hotly on his cheek. There was no top clearance, so her breasts pressed flat against his chest.

Had a body ever arranged itself so well onto his? It was perhaps not thebestidea to pull her nearly on top of him, thighs sprawled, just to prove a point. It wasn’t lost on Dorsey now that in their current position, if he pushed her downjusta little, the head of his penis would be at her hot center, with nothing but blue jeans and Italian wool between them.

Liza, if you move, I’ll move.

“It’s more than a nudge.” Dorsey’s voice sounded foreign and harsh.

Liza pulled herself off him devastatingly slowly.

Safe choice.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” Liza’s voice had also taken on a husky quality.Can she feel it too? The danger we’re in?

“A dick?” Dorsey massaged himself.

“Exactly. It’s just external stimuli, Dorsey. Or are you surprised to have a biological reaction to someone other than Ms. Venezuela?”

Aha, there it is.So shehadthought about his stupid little comment as much as he had. She’d had her little ego bruised and wanted to get a trophy hard-on out of him. The joke was on her; lately, well-buttered buns could get a hard-on out of him.