Ian

Without trying to move a solitary muscle, I looked down at the blonde hair spread over my chest as if needing confirmation last night had happened. The sheet was wrapped around us in a tangled knot, her breathing even. Her thigh was wedged between mine, her arm laying limp across my chest. Her cheek rested right over my pounding heart. Never, not once, had I awakened to her in my arms, and Christ, I never wanted to open my eyes to empty sheets again.

Holy hell. She ...