I woke up with my throat like sandpaper and my skin too hot.
The room smelled like whiskey and sleep. A breeze crept in through a cracked window, but the sweat sticking to my back said it wasn’t enough. I groaned, rolled sideways—and didn’t hit the mattress.
I hit skin.
Bare, warm skin.
My eyes snapped open.
What the hell—
I was straddling someone. One leg on either side of solid thighs, my palms pressed against a firm, broad chest. My shirt had ridden up. Boxers, twisted low. And the body underneath me? Unfamiliar.
Big. Muscled. Male.
Breathing slow, steady and not asleep.
I jerked back, but a hand caught my hip. Firm. Confident. Not surprised.
“Easy,” a voice said beneath me. A low, gravelly, and terrifyingly familiar voice. “You’re fine.”
My pulse skidded sideways.
“…Derek?”
