Page 48 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
BEN
A warm bodyis draped over me.
Tits are pressed to my chest and a lean thigh is draped over mine. My dick is on board with this plan, I think drowsily.
I wrap my arms around her, shoving my nose into her hair.
The scent is warm. Like vanilla and sunshine.
Sienna.
Oh, fuck. My eyes fly open as she wakes up and stares down at me with a sleepy smile.
But then she either realizes she’s practically lying on top of me or that she’s crushing my morning wood, because she springs off me and stumbles out of the bed.
“I’m so sorry, Ben. I don’t know why I’m mauling you.” She shoves her hair out of her face.
In the morning light, I take in her fresh face. No makeup. The bruising has healed, and she’s so damn pretty. Just those big inquisitive eyes and long lashes. All that sexy hair drapes over her shoulders and gives me teasing glimpses of her hard little nipples beneath her thin tank.
“It’s okay. I didn’t hate it,” I tease.
No, I loved having her in my arms.
A pretty flush heats her cheeks, and I sit up and hunch forward to try to cover the erection tenting the sheet. I’m about to make a joke about it when she says she needs to use the bathroom and darts out of the room.
Christ. Maybe rooming together wasn’t the best idea, but hell if I can complain. I love hanging out with that girl. And waking up with her is even better.
At the same time, though, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.
I hear voices in the kitchen, and when she returns, she offers me a tentative smile and hands me a breakfast burrito.
She sits next to me on the bed. “No matter what happens, Ben, I don’t want any weirdness between us, okay? You mean too much to me to screw up our friendship.”
I nod slowly because, yeah, I feel the same way.
She tugs on my pinky with hers. “A good friend is like a four-leaf clover. Hard to find and lucky to have.”
“Another philosopher?”
“An Irish proverb.”
We can absolutely keep this thing in the friend zone.
Hooking my arm around her shoulders, I kiss her temple. “There’s no weirdness, Cruz Control. I’m a good cuddler. No one can fault you for wanting some of that.”
She chuckles. “You are a good cuddler. Although you do hog the covers.”
I gasp dramatically. “¡Mentiras, mujer!”
Lies, woman.
Sienna gives me a look. Blinks. Sighs. “Oh. I like when you speak Spanish.”
Did I say I need to keep this platonic? Because the look she gives me could melt the paint off the walls.
“¿Hablas español?”
Hesitantly, she tilts her head one way and then the other. “Un poco. Entiendo si hablas despacio.”A little.I understand if you speak slowly. Her cheeks turn pink. “But I’m not totally fluent, so don’t go crazy. It sucks because I wish I were, but I get tongue-tied. It’s a little embarrassing.”
