Free Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) by Georgina Guthrie Page B

right.”
    “I didn’t do it.” He snuggled up to me.
    “I know, go back to sleep,” I whispered, gently running my hand through his hair and over the nape of his neck, but he couldn’t hear me. He was already out. He’d probably been asleep all along, talking while he dreamed. He snuffled and sighed, then relaxed against me.
    My heart clenched. What had he been dreaming about? More fallout from his troubles with Nicola, even over a year later? I wanted to smack that girl so hard! I continued to rub his back, listening to him snore.
    I blinked into the darkness. Holy crap, I was roasting! Why was it so frigging hot?
    Without jostling Daniel too much, I worked at the knot on my PJ bottoms with one hand and wriggled out of them, pushing them down with my feet until they were balled up in the bottom of the sleeping bag. I rolled the sleeping bag down to my waist. I could feel a rivulet of sweat between my breasts. Charming.
    Having Daniel’s warm body pressed against me wasn’t helping, but I wasn’t about to move him. I may have been hotter than hell, but I was happier than a pig in muck. I settled back into the pillow and tried to regulate my breathing, and I soon drifted back into a deep, dark sleep.

    When I awoke a few hours later, I was instantly aware of my surroundings. Although I’d fallen back to sleep with Daniel snuggled up against me, I was now lying on his warm, bare chest. I’d kicked the sleeping bag off completely, and Daniel had relieved himself of his shirt. The soft hairs on Daniel’s chest tickled my cheek. My right hand rested on his stomach, and my right leg was slung haphazardly across his hips. His hand firmly grasped my thigh, very close to my ass.
    Wowza.
    Without moving my hand too much, I felt the sprinkling of hairs above his waistband. Glorious. As for what I could feel trapped under my thigh? Well, that was beyond glorious.
    I shifted and squinted at the alarm clock. Six fifteen. My movements roused Daniel, who sighed sleepily and opened his eyes, blinking at me groggily.
    “Good morning, beautiful.” He kissed my forehead and glanced at the clock with a groan.
    “Morning yourself, handsome.”
    He peered down at our entwined bodies, taking in the position of my leg and gently rubbing my thigh.
    “Not that those aren’t some fantastic black knickers, but where the hell are your pajama bottoms? And what happened to the sleeping bag?”
    “Excuse me, I could ask the same of you. Where’s your T-shirt?”
    “Bloody hell, I woke up a couple of hours ago sweating like mad. You were like a furnace.”
    “I know! I was roasting. The sleeping bag had to go.”
    He laughed and shifted his hips under my leg. “Christ, that’s a little too close for comfort.” He gave my upper thigh a squeeze. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that we made it through the night. I think you’d best move your luscious leg right this minute.”
    “Like this?” I asked, moving my leg up and down, feeling him harden even more beneath my inner thigh.
    He moaned and grabbed my leg, pushing me away decisively. “No, like that ,” he said as I rolled onto my back, laughing. He flicked on the bedside lamp and stood, looking down at me, his hands on his hips. I stared at him stupidly, distracted by his bare chest, arms, and toned abdomen, not to mention the tent pole down below. He seemed oblivious to my ogling, casting his own eyes up and down my bare legs. “Are you, um, sure you don’t want to shower here? If you do, you can go ahead.”
    “No, I’ll wait till I get home,” I said, snapping out of my trance. The thought of showering and then having to put yesterday’s clothes back on was particularly distasteful.
    “Okay. Well, I have to shower. The coffee should be ready if you want to grab a cup. And help yourself to food if you want something.”
    “Have a good shower,” I said, raising my eyebrow knowingly.
    “I intend to.” He rubbed at his chest hair absently. “Did you drool on