Mystery Man (Dream Man #1)(33)

I was in my parents’ house.

Before the shadow of his descending head hit its intended target, my hand shot up and covered his mouth.

“What are you doing?” I hissed through a whisper.

His hand came up, fingers wrapping around my wrist and he pulled it away.

“What do I always do?” he asked back, also whispering.

“You broke in my parents’ house!” I was still whispering and hissing.

“Yeah,” he replied like this was perfectly okay.

“We can’t have sex when my parents are practically right next door!”

He was silent, his body still, then he moved fast, his face disappearing in my neck as his arms got super tight and he rolled me to my back with his torso on mine and I heard his muffled laughter.

“Hawk!” I snapped, my hands at his sleek-skin-over-hard-muscle bared shoulders, pushing back.

His head came up and his weight came off me as he rested both forearms into the bed on either side of me.

He looked at me through the shadows. “Babe, not gonna f**k you,” he murmured.

“You just said, ‘what do I always do?’ And we always have sex,” I returned.

“Yeah, babe, but it starts with a kiss.”

Oh. This was true.

I stared at his shadowed head through the dark. “Then what are you doing here?”

“You’re here.”

“So?” I prompted.

One of his hands came to my face and I felt his fingers glide along my hairline before they moved into the hair at the side of my head.

“Last night, someone targeted you and got close enough to you, he freaked you out. When that happened, my boys were eight minutes away and I was an hour away.”

“You’re telling me something I know, Hawk.”

“That’s not gonna happen again.”

He had sounded amused, at first, then informative. His last sounded like a vow.

My stomach got squishy.

I resisted the squishiness and reminded him, “Dad’s right next door.”

“He’s a man who can take care of himself and you, Sweet Pea, but there are people out there who don’t know that. They see my ride sitting at the curb, they’ll think twice before they f**k with anyone in this house.”

Holy crap. He was protecting me. And Dad. And Meredith.

Wow.

“So you’re here just to um… be here?” I asked.

“That and make sure you sleep.”

Uh.

Wow.

It was getting harder and harder to battle the squishiness.

He went on. “And get some sleep with you, I’m f**kin’ wiped.”

Uh.

Wow.

SuperHawk, World’s Greatest Lover and Major Badass got wiped.

Interesting.

“Babe,” he called.

My body jerked out of its amazement and I asked, “What?”

“You gonna do that?”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

No. No I was never going to get back to sleep. I’d got my second wind after standing in the cold when he left earlier and I’d managed to blow through a huge amount of work, staying awake and fresh until my concentration started waning around a quarter to midnight. I’d closed down and hit the sack feeling an exhaustion I knew would mean I’d sleep deep. The minute my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

Now I was wide awake.

“Yes,” I lied.

His head dropped and he did something new, something he’d never done except in the lead up to something else. And that was to lightly kiss the indention at the base of my throat in the middle of my collarbone.

Then he slid off me, turned me to my side, curved his body into mine, hitching one of my knees up with his so his heavy, warm thigh was resting on mine. His arm stayed tight around my belly, he leaned in and kissed the skin behind my ear then his head settled on the pillow.

Guess Cabe Delgado didn’t verbalize his goodnight, he acted it out.

Mm.

I laid there in the warm curve of his body under his arm, feeling his breath on my neck thinking, Holy shit, MM is spooning me!

Tracy would do cartwheels of pure joy for a mile if she knew this. Cam might have a heart attack.

I didn’t know what to do except let the feeling my body was communicating to my brain penetrate and that feeling was, I really, really like this.

My ex-husband Scott never spooned. I spooned his back but he never cuddled into me. Even after sex. He was a slam, bam, thank you ma’am type of guy. He took his orgasm, pulled out, rolled away, turned off the light and fell asleep.

And he snored.

He didn’t cuddle. He didn’t sweet talk. He didn’t do any of that. Not even in the hopes of priming me for round two. With Scott, there was never a round two. This was, I would discover later, because by the time he had sex with me, he was too exhausted to do it again because he’d already had sex with someone else that day. Or two someone elses. Maybe even three, who knew, that was how much of a horndog he was.

Hawk’s weight settled into me, his arm relaxed, his breathing evened and I knew he was asleep. Asleep spooning me.

What did I do with this? How did I make us be over when I liked this? And what he said outside by his car. And the fact he didn’t like the thought that me or my family might be targeted and he did something about it.