My body feels so heavy.
Even still half-suspended in sleep, I remember the horrors and stress of last night that lead to exhaustion I still feel in my bones.
I also remember the completely out-of-place calm that I felt falling asleep in King’s ridiculously large bed.
I snuggle into the warmth, breathing in the masculine scents that filled my lungs as I fell asleep.
The warmth expands beneath me. A low rumble moving from my pillow through my head. And suddenly I’m all the way awake.
My eyes pop open and the first thing I see is the expanse of bare skin. Bare skin on a broad chest of toned muscles, with golden-brown chest hair against my cheek.
My head is on his chest.
My head is on King’s chest.
His breathing stays the same, and I try not to tense as I take stock of my situation, not wanting to wake him up.
I fell asleep on my side, on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom. But now I’m turned the other way,my back to the bathroom, my front to the wall of windows and French doors leading out onto the patio,and I’m on the other side of the mattress.
His side.
There are heavy drapes on either side of the windows and doors, but neither of us pulled them closed, so the bright sunlight is streaming through the glass. I don’t know what time it is, but clearly I slept past morning. But even with the brightness, I can see that the room lights are off.
So…what? He came in here last night and found me sleeping with all the lights on like a scared child and decided to just strip down and get into bed? Like this is normal?
This is so far from normal, my brain is still catching up to the fact that I’m still in bed. With my captor!
Just breathe and think, Savannah.
My arm is strewn across his bare waist, as though we cuddle like this every night. And my leg…oh god. My leg is hiked up over his thigh. And without reaching down or lifting the blankets to look, I can only pray he’s not completely naked.
I start to pull my leg back, moving as slowly as my aching body allows. Apparently getting kidnapped uses muscles I’m not used to exercising. But then the arm that I hadn’t registered yet, tightens around my shoulders.
I’m trapped.
Panic starts to blur the edges of my sanity.
What am I doing?!
Distance.
I need distance.
Dropping the attempt at stealth, I shove against the solid body of the man who said I would have the room to myself.
He grunts, but barely moves even as I shove against him with all my strength. But it does serve to dislodge my body from his.
I scramble backwards, the blankets tangling around my body.
“Shit, Savannah, I was sleeping,” King grumbles, as he drapes a forearm over his eyes.
“You weren’t supposed to!” My voice is way too breathy, but I’ll blame it on my panic and not the sight of his biceps.
He lifts his arm enough to squint at me. “I’m not supposed to sleep?”
“Not here!” I fling an arm wide, indicating the bed we’re sharing.
He shrugs. The motherfucker shrugs.
And then it dawns on me. Maybe with him in here…
I roll over the edge of the bed, the bedding coming with me.
“Cold!” he whines. But I don’t look back. I don’t want to know if he’s fully naked, or only in a pair of those shiny silk boxers. All I want to know is––if he left the door unlocked.
The curse he lets out when he realizes my plan fills me with hope.
My feet trip over the too-long pants, and I stumble forward, but when I reach the handle, it turns.
It fucking turns!
I yank open the door with more force than necessary, and I swear I feel the ground shake as King leaps from the bed behind me.
I spare the split second it takes to slam the door shut behind me, hoping that it will buy me just enough time to get…anywhere, but I only make it a dozen steps before I hear the bedroom door open.
“Savannah.” His tone is more exasperation than intensity, but it shoots adrenaline through my system all the same.
He doesn’t think I’ll get away.
I got out of the room he trapped me in but he still doesn’t think I’ll get away.
I grip the waist of the pants and pull them up as high as they’ll go to keep from tripping, but I have to let go of the material when I reach the top of the stairs.
My socks are slippery on the wood floor, and I dart my hand out just in time to catch the corner of the railing. My momentum swings me around and I take the first few steps at a terrifying speed.
“Dammit, woman!” King’s voice is so close, it startles me and I accidently let go.
The scream is already leaving me before my foot even slides off the edge of the step.
Falling down these stairs is going to hurt. It’s going to hurt a lot more than if King had let me fall the last time he chased me. The last time he scared me and I tripped.
My arms flail, desperately hoping for another save. But my other foot follows the first, sliding out from under me.
My center of gravity takes over, and I can only be thankful I’m falling backwards and not forwards, as my ass plunges towards the hard steps below me.
King lets out a grunt, a second before my butt hits…a lap.
