Chapter 119
Ethan
A small groan leaves me as I open my eyes.
Tilda makes a matching noise as knuckles press into the base of my throat, her hand somehow wedged between her forehead and my neck.
A sleepy smile starts to pull at my lips, but it gets demolished by a yawn.
I feel like I lay down and didn’t move a single muscle after falling asleep.
I blink, trying to wake myself up.
And that smile returns when I remember last night.
My Firecracker is a goddamn sex goddess.
Rounds, plural, of sex.
A shared shower.
Another shared edible before we climbed into bed.
Said Firecracker shifts. Her knee jams into the center of my thigh, and the hand not threatening to choke me somehow pulls my chest hair.
My smile widens.
She’s pure chaos. And I love it.
I press my lips to the top of her messy hair.
I want to stay in bed, fall back asleep. But I also want to get that trail cam set up on her driveway before I have to leave for work. And being able to keep an eye on Tilda takes precedence over sleep.
Resigned, I start to roll away from Tilda, but the mattress sinks more than it should as I move.
Pausing, I shift my top leg back, feeling with my foot. And yep, this little menace has me trapped on the very edge of the bed.
If I try to roll onto my back, I’ll land on the floor.
Tilda murmurs and snuggles into my chest.
But I was already starting to lean, and the added pressure on my body pushes me past the tipping point.
“Fuck.”
I reach for the headboard and hook my fingers over the top of the plain wood as my top half slides off the mattress.
My fingers strain, but my grip holds.
Then my ass slides off the bed, and rather than dislodging my shoulder, I let go.
I grunt when I hit the floor, my boxer briefs doing little to soften the landing.
A purple-haired fairy peeks over the edge of the mattress, looking down at me. “Ethan?”
I sit up. “Morning.”
She squints at me. “Did you sleep down there?”
“No.” I get to my feet. “You pushed me off the bed.”
She starts to deny it, then looks down. She’s mostly on her stomach now, with me out of the way. And her shoulder is right at the edge of the mattress. Where I was.
Tilda rolls onto her back and slaps a hand over her mouth.
“Laugh it up.” I roll my neck out. “Next time I’m taking you with me.”
“Sorry,” she says from behind her hand.
I look down at her. And even though I know she’s hiding a smile, I know she really is sorry. “Go back to sleep.”
She shakes her head and drops her hand as she starts to sit up. “The least I can do is make you coffee before you go to work.”
I place my hand on her chest and push her back down. “Go back to sleep.”
“But—”
“Get up in an hour and make me coffee.”
She glances at the clock, seeing it’s early. “Sleep with me. I promise I won’t push you off the bed again.”
I bend lower. “I don’t believe you.” I press a kiss to her mouth, then stand up straight. “And I got a camera for your driveway. I want to set up before I go.”
Her brows lift. “A camera?”
“Yeah.” I cross the room and pick my jeans up off the floor. “I’ll hook it up to your Wi-Fi and show you the app. Then you’ll be able to watch it on your phone and see who’s coming.”
“Oh, wow, that would be really cool.” She sits back up.
“Matilda.”
She waves me off and scoots to the edge of the bed. “I’m awake now. And I’m pretty sure a spy camera deserves French toast.”