Vanessa
I wake up with a start and immediately my senses go into overdrive. Before I even open my eyes, I’m aware of one thing.
Stephen Torres is in bed with me.
I know it’s him because not only do I feel him but I can smell him. His scent, a mix of sandalwood, vanilla and him is all that I can focus on.
For a moment there, I wonder if he’s awake but then he shifts, shivering slightly and the realization that he’s not wearing a shirt distracts me. His arm is banded tight around my waist, his nose is in my hair and either his phone is in his pocket or… something else entirely is poking my back.
I don’t dare move for fear I wake him up. I don’t even dare breathe. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want him to know I’m awake and not because I like how it feels when he holds me.
He shifts again, his arm loosening as he murmurs something in his sleep. His breathing is deep and he mumbles again. This time, I hear it.
“.”
I stiffen at the sound of my name.
Is he dreaming about me?
Wait. Why is he in bed with me?
I forget that I’m trying not to wake him as I slide my gaze all the way up and I’m shocked to see him staring straight at me. As my eyes meet his piercing ones that always seem to see right through me.
His eyes dance around my face before they land on his arm holding me to him.
My eyes widen and I throw him off of me.
“I thought you were asleep.”
He smirks and moves to lay on his back, his arms butterfly behind his neck as he continues to rake his eyes up and down my body. When his eyes meet mine, there’s
“I was but you were overthinking too loud. It woke me up.”
I roll my eyes and push off the covers as I move to get out of bed. It takes me a second to get my bearings and when I look down at my bare legs, I jump back into the covers.
“Where are my clothes, Stephen?”
Stephen sighs behind me and gets off the bed.
I try not to let my eyes linger on his bare torso but like a magnet, they train on them.
Fucking traitors.
I pretend I wasn’t just ogling him and pull the blanket up to my chin.
“Better question is, where are your clothes, Stephen?”
He smirks, scratching a spot under his right peck before leaning on the bedside table.
“The answer to both those questions is you started screaming so loud, I heard you from across my penthouse. When I got here, you were dripping in sweat. I had no choice other than to give the shirt off my back.”
My eyes cast down to my lap then I realize–
“You saw me naked?” My eyes widen at the thought and I kick my feet in annoyance because I can’t remember if I shaved my damn legs. Among other areas…
He chuckles like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Bastard.
“No. I kept the light off for your privacy. I also put my shirt over your head before I slipped your shirt off. I pulled your pants off last and kept your legs under the blanket so your–.” He clears his throat, “--area was covered.”
“Area? What are you twelve, you can’t say–” I pause, “Wait. I was screaming?”
He takes a second to respond, like he wants to be cautious of his words.
“Yes. You were also squirming a lot so if you were going to ask why I held you in your sleep. Well, that’s why. It was the only thing that calmed you down enough to have you go back to sleep.”