That heady pine scent I love fills my senses and pulls my mind the rest of the way out of sleep.
Hans.
The heavy arm across my side isn’t my own. The heat at my back, the breath against my hair, the hardness against my bottom… It’s all Hans.
I take a slow breath and crack my eyes open, trying to keep my body still.
I’m in bed with Hans.
I am in a bed, with Hans.
I take another slow inhale.
A faint memory of his arms around me dances through my brain, and I have to assume he carried me in here. Which, one, I would love to be awake for that, and two, should probably worry me as much as the second sword he has mounted to the wall I’m facing.
But it doesn’t.
Hans’s decorating skills may need a little help, but this mattress is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever lain on.
With the smallest movements I can manage, I nuzzle my face into the pillow.
This pillowcase is made of the softest cotton, and the pillow’s thickness provides the perfect amount of support.
It’s like his couch and his knives. And, now that I think about it, his truck. All nice. All well taken care of.
I can’t help but wonder what he thought when he was in my house the other day. Did he like all the color and decor, or does he hate it? Does he prefer living a minimalist lifestyle?
Not that he spent much time looking around.
The length pressed against my ass twitches.
I freeze.
Suddenly, it feels imperative that I get out of here before the man behind me wakes up.
What we did in my living room was hot. Like super hot. But it was also an in the moment thing. But waking up with his big dick twitching against my ass… I don’t know how to be cool about that.
Not to mention, the man is sick. He needs to sleep so his body can recover.
I start to carefully slide from his grip.
I’ll sneak out of here and save us both the uncomfortable experience of waking up together.
