Page 109 of Buckin' Around

The air changes, the willows outside hissing with the shift. A rumble echoes overhead. Sitting up, I see a flash beyond the curtains of green, now dulled grey by the dark night.

Well, that explains it.

I lay back down, listening to the storm approach. Mother Nature never ceases to amaze me. When the crickets go quiet, I know the rain is almost here. The temperature drops to something a little more comfortable as the first patters on the roof start.

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the room sporadically.

A sigh rattles my chest.

This place is beautiful. It’s so different from home, but beautiful just the same.

The next lightning strike that lights up the room brandishes a tall figure standing, arms crossed, at the end of the sofa.

I jolt as a stifled scream slips past my lips and a tingle shoots up my spine.

Pressing a palm over my racing heart, I lose a breath when I recognize Spencer’s form.

“God above, you eejit, you scared the bejesus out of me,” I chastise.

He chuckles, rounding the sofa and extending a hand down to me.

“I said no, Spence. This is your home. I’m fine with the sofa.”

“Nope. Not going to cut it, Riles.”

“I was almost asleep. Go away.” I wave my hands at him like I’m shooing a fly, and he tilts his head.

“I’m serious. You are wasting my precious sleep right now.”

“And you’re being a stubborn ass. It’s hot as hell out here. Come on.”

“I like the heat,” I say with a tone that could only be described as petulant child.

“Sure, the girl fromNorthern Irelandhas no problem with the heat.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, off with you.”

I roll over, facing the sofa back rest. Not my greatest plan, admittedly, but a statement nonetheless.

Hands slide under my waist and shoulders, and I’m levitating over the sofa a heartbeat later.

“Spence, what the hell?”

I’m cradled against his warmth, against my will, as he pads down the hallway.

The second we cross the threshold of his bedroom, the blissful cool air from his air conditioner finds my sweaty skin. Goosebumps wash over every inch of my body.

My thin sleep tank feels set to be ripped in half by my diamond-hard nipples any fecking second.

This is a bad idea.

Spencer has me tucked under the sheet on ‘my’ side of the bed before he crawls over me and flops onto his side on top of the sheet. So, this is his plan... trap me under the sheet so I can’t leave.

Huh.

I have news for you, buddy.

I scramble up and out of the sheet and stalk from the room, instantly regretting that decision when the cool air is left behind, but it’s the principle of the thing at this point.