Page 37 of Keeping Laryn
The man was huge…down there. She’d felt him against her earlier tonight, but seeing a glimpse of his cock in those tighty-whities he’d mentioned made her lick her lips even as her mouth suddenly went dry. He had those muscles along his hips that most women went gaga over, and Laryn realized she was no exception.
Before she could get her brain in gear, he rolled again, trapping her against the bed exactly as before with his arm and leg. He sighed in pleasure as he snuggled into her chest.
“Comfy,” he mumbled.
“Shit,” she whispered.
Then she stopped breathing altogether when his hand slipped under her tank top and slid its way up her body. The heatfrom his palm was scorching as he palmed her generous breast over her bra and made a contented noise in the back of his throat.
“Tate?” she said.
He didn’t respond.
“Tate?” she tried again, louder, hoping she’d be able to get through to him as she had earlier.
But it seemed that he was finally well and truly out.
She lay there staring at her ceiling, fighting with her conscience. She should do whatever it took to get out from under him. This wasn’t right. He had no idea what he was doing. Consent was important to her—and to him too, from everything he’d said—and if she stayed where she was, she was no better than Barb.
Deep down, she knew that wasn’t true. She’d done what was necessary in order to keep Tate out of that bitch’s clutches.
But lying next to the man she’d admired…and loved…for so long was torture. Especially with his lips so close to her nipples. His hand covering her breast. His cock pressed up against her thigh as he nestled into her. It was everything she’d ever dreamed about. She knew he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. She could literally be anyone, and he’d probably be doing the exact same thing. But her heart didn’t want to listen to what her head was saying.
They were lying on top of the covers. Not that she was cold, not in the least, and she couldn’t get under them to pull up the comforter anyway. And the lights in the room were still on, as she’d planned on getting Tate settled before heading out to the couch, but Laryn had never been more comfortable.
She’d just stay here for a moment longer. Wait until Tate was well and truly out, then she’d somehow slip out from under his grip and leave him to sleep off the drug. The morning was going to suck. She was going to have to tell him everything that happened.
Her eyes closed, and Laryn sighed. Lying under Tate was more comfortable than she’d imagined. She loved that he was apparently a snuggler…at least when he was unconscious. She wanted to stay awake, to soak in the moment because she was pretty sure after he woke up and figured out where he was and what was going on, he was going to be pissed.
But the day, and night, was catching up with her. The stress she’d been under with the flight trials, with Altan Osman threatening her, and after spending so much time with Tate was too much to overcome.
She was warm, comfortable, and…safe.
It was enough to have her falling into a deep sleep in moments.
CHAPTER NINE
Casper woke up with a headache, feeling like he did when he’d overindulged. He was actually a little nauseous as well, which wasn’t normal for him after a night of drinking. He tried to remember what he’d drunk, but he couldn’t remember much ofanything. He remembered going to Anchor Point with Laryn, then hanging out with the guys…and that was about it. The rest of the night was a blank.
Anxiety hit him hard. Not being able to remember was scary as shit, and he was a man for whom control was very important. Opening his eyes, he realized he didn’t recognize the ceiling he was looking at. It was light outside, which meant it was morning. Or afternoon? Shit, even not knowing what time it was upped his anxiety.
Turning his head to get his bearings, Casper froze at the sight that greeted him.
He was in a bed he’d never seen before. In a room he didn’t recognize at all.
And lying beside him, was Laryn.
Then something else occurred to him. He was naked. Well, okay, not completely, but his flight suit was unzipped, twistedaround his waist, and he was basically in nothing but his underwear. Laryn was wearing a tank top and shorts he vaguely remembered her wearing the night before, but the top was twisted and one of her breasts was on full display. He couldn’t see her actual flesh because of her bra, but it was enough to make his cock harden and his fingers twitch with the desire to touch her.
But the most unsettling feeling was that he had a suspicion he’dalreadytouched her. He didn’t remember doing it, but the memory of her tit in his palm was as clear as if he’d spent the night pleasuring the woman.
Horrified at what he might’ve done when he was intoxicated, Casper moved. He practically threw himself off the side of the bed and promptly fell on his ass, tripping over his flight suit, which fell to his ankles as soon as he stood.
He discovered he was also dizzy as hell, and standing had made a million hammers start up in his skull. He sat up carefully, trying to understand what the hell was happening, just as Laryn peered over the edge of the mattress. His not-so-coordinated exit from the bed had obviously woken her up.
But instead of chewing him a new asshole for whatever he’d done to her last night, she looked concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Casper could only stare up at her in confusion.
