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Allie had to help out with that. She got my fingers undone both times, and that’s about as much as we’ve touched. Her eyes have been on me, though. Studying me, perhaps?

Allie was quiet, possibly pensive, at dinner. Our eyes met several times, but Angel monopolized the conversation. I was grateful for that. I don’t get nervous very often, but I feel like a teenager that just got caught having sex with a General’s daughter right now.

Night descends, and Angel yawns. I watch as Allie stands, ushering her to go to bed.

“Are you tucking me in or is Daddy?” Angel asks, looking over at me.

“Both,” I say, a small smile playing on my lips when Allie stops breathing for a second. Her eyes close briefly, but she opens them and smiles down at Angel as I stand.

If nothing else, I’ll just keep her here until I prove I can be good for the both of them. I’d never hurt either one.

Angel has become someone I can’t live without, and I want her with me as much as possible. Allie is an entirely different sort of love, but I’m equally lost without her. And I’m smart enough to realize that I don’t want to fuck this up.

“Come on, then,” Angel says around a yawn, and I smile over at Allie who is trying not to smile.

She leads the way, and Allie leans over after tucking her in, kissing her on the forehead. I don’t wait for her to back up as I go to lean in, putting my arm around Allie as I lean down and kiss Angel’s cheek.

She giggles for some reason, and I pull Allie to me as I straighten up, keeping my arm around her as I guide her to my room—our room.

“You’ve been quiet,” I tell her once the door is shut.

She slowly walks toward the bed, eyeing it as though she’s thinking. Shit.

“You wouldn’t let me talk earlier,” she says with her back turned.

Because you keep overthinking everything. Obviously I don’t say that aloud. I’m not stupid. Allie is cautious, but it’s not necessary with me.

“Well, when you’re ready to say what I want to hear, I’ll gladly let you talk,” I say instead, shrugging when she looks over her shoulder at me.

She laughs, which surprises me. I pull off my shirt, deciding to distract her before she starts listing all the reasons this would be a bad idea, and I smile when I hear her quiet intake of air.

I turn my back when I undo my jeans, and I say over my shoulder, “Your stuff is in the closet and the dressers, if you want to find something to sleep in.”

As I tug my jeans down, I take my time, mentally preparing myself for whatever she says. She surprises me again by not saying anything. I can’t feel her eyes on me, but I’m sure she’s watching since she’s not saying—

The hell?

I turn around to see Allie crawling across the bed in nothing but a pair of lacy underwear and no bra. Her clothes are nowhere to be found, and I’m wondering how she stripped so quickly. However, my brain shuts off when she peers over her shoulder, still on all fours, and looks at me with an arched eyebrow.

Her round, perky ass is barely covered by the lace, and peeks of flesh show through the material. Did she put that shit on just to torture me? We can’t have sex. She just got out of the hospital.

Her skin is lightly tanned, and her blonde hair falls over her shoulder, exposing more of her back. Her waist curves in, spreading at her hips, giving her that hourglass figure that has me biting my knuckle to keep from… Shit—did I just growl?

“Are you going to stare all day or join me?” she asks as she pulls the covers back and slips in between the sheets, covering her breasts before I can go dumber.

I don’t waste time before going to the bed, and she grins at me when I climb in on my side, which isn’t usually my side. She’s on my side, but I’ll let her have it.

She scoots closer, and I go tense. “Allie, you just got out of the hospital,” I remind her on a shaky breath when her soft fingers find my chest, sliding down in a slow exploration and tracing the lines of my muscles.

“Stitches on my head aren’t going to be a problem in bed,” she says, making it sound like a Dr. Seuss rhyme, and I can’t help but laugh a little.

But my laughter dies when she pushes her skin against mine. I start to object again when her lips find mine, but I can’t find the fucking balls to push her away. Christ, she tastes so good.

Her tongue sweeps in, stealing my sanity, and I wrap an arm around her to tug her on top of me, needing to feel her as close as possible. Both my arms latch around her waist, and I try to keep my hands from straying to her scantily clad ass.


Tags: C.M. Owens Sterling Shore Romance