Chapter 8
Holt
Surprisingly enough, this couch is pretty comfortable. I thank my lucky stars, because I’ll be camped out here for the next few days. I’m hoping that that will be all it will take to convince Piper to let me share her bed, or better yet have her join me in mine.
I check my phone and notice a text message I missed from earlier.
Carter: Well?
Holt: Well, what?
Carter: Cut the shit. You know what. Did you figure out how to crash at Piper’s?
Holt: I’m on her couch now.
Carter: Good.
I wait for any kind of additional message from him, but don’t receive one.
He must approve, otherwise he would have let me know.
Carter is a man of few words. He is similar to my brother in that way.
I look at my watch and see that it is a little after 10:00 pm.
I close my eyes and inhale. Smelling everything that is Piper.
If I focus, I can smell her shower gel from the bathroom.
I haven’t been sleeping long when all of a sudden I hear whimpering.
Instantly I know that it is coming from Piper’s room.
I get up and quickly make my way to her bedroom.
I push the door all the way open, and pause for a minute.
Piper is still sleeping, but she is tossing and turning on the bed. Her sheets are twisted around her.
The sounds she is making piss me off and hurt me physically at the same time. I make my way to the bed and start to shush her in soothing tones. I run my hand through her still damp hair. Her whimpering eases a little, but doesn’t stop completely.
I can’t bear it any longer and I lay on the bed and pull her to me. She stirs a little and then falls back asleep. Her head nestles under my chin, her hands clasped underneath her chin. She stirs again and murmurs something I don’t catch before her breathing evens out.
I take a deep breath, relieved that her sounds of distress have stopped but painfully aware of her soft curvy body pressed against mine.
Taking another deep breath, I try to calm myself down.
Visions of me flipping her over on her back, pinning her hands above her head, and having my way with her flash across my imagination.
She would be making totally different sounds then. I can picture her panting, rounded rosy cheeks, moaning and writhing against me, glassy eyes. I breathe out slowly and try to picture anything else.
I can’t show my hand yet, but I don’t think it is a bad idea for us to wake up all tangled up together.
As a matter of fact, I think that this is the perfect turn of events.
It may help to speed up my mental timeline a bit.
I press my lips to the top of her head and breathe in.
She smells like coconuts. It is my last thought as I drift off to sleep.