Please keep in mind, these are unedited teasers. May not be in the final version.
I rolled my eyes, but my tummy was coiling tight. Why had I offered for him to stay? His assumption wasn’t too far off. Daemon didn’t strike me as the type to dig PG-13 slumber parties. I remembered the last and only time we’d shared a bed. Flushing, I stood. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t…I didn’t know what I wanted.
“I’m going to get changed,” I said.
“Wow. You’re so chivalrous, Daemon.”
His smiled widened, flashing deep dimples. “Well, the experience would be mutually beneficial. I promise.”
No doubt it would be.
“Stay,” I ordered, then hurried upstairs.
I quickly changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a pink thermal. Not the sexiest sleepwear, but as I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I decided it was the best choice. Anything else would give Daemon ideas. Hell, a paper sack would encourage him.
I left my bathroom and stopped. Daemon had not stayed. My smile slipped my face.
He was standing by the window, back to me. “I got bored.”
“I wasn’t even gone five minutes.”
“I have a short attention span.” He glanced back at me, eyes glittering. “Nice shorts. Gets me in the mood for a cherry.”
I folded my arms. There were cherries on my shorts, but somehow I doubted he was talking about them or the fruit. “What are you doing up here?”
“You said I could stay.” He faced me, his gaze drifting to the bed. The room suddenly seemed too small, the bed ever smaller. “I didn’t think you meant staying on the couch.”
Now I wasn’t even sure what I’d meant. I sighed. What was I doing?
Crossing the room, he stopped in front of me. “I’m not going to bite.”
“Unless you want me to,” he added with a devilish grin.
“Nice,” I muttered, side stepping him. Space was definitely needed. Not that it did much good. Heart pounding, I watched him kicked off his shoes and then whipped off his shirt. He moved to the button on his jeans. My eyes widened. “What—what are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.”
“But you’re getting naked!”
He arched his brow. “I do have boxers on. What? Do you expect me to sleep in my jeans?”
“You did last time.” I felt the need to fan myself.
Daemon laughed. “Actually, I had pajama bottoms on.”
And he’d had a shirt on, but who was keeping track? I could’ve told him to leave, but I turned away, pretending to be engrossed with a book on my desk. Chills shot straight to my core when I heard the bed groan under his weight. Taking a shallow breath, I turned around. He was in bed, arms folded behind his head, an innocent look on his face. “This was a bad idea,” I whispered.
“It was probably the smartest idea you’ve ever had.”
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