Better When He's Brave - Jay Crownover Page 0,66

me until I squeezed my arms even tighter around her and put a hand on her flat belly to keep her still. I made sure every inch of her was pressed up against every naked inch of me. That was what a real-life dream felt like.

“You’ll sleep better if you have the bed to yourself.” She whispered the words but I heard them loud and clear.

“No, I won’t. Everything seems to be better with you close by. Just give me an hour, Reeve. Please?” I inhaled her and knew there wasn’t going to be any fight left in me as soon as I exhaled. I always seemed to be asking her to give me things, which was so against my character. I never took for myself—at least I hadn’t until she came back to town.

I couldn’t stay awake any longer to see if she agreed to stay or not, but when sleep finally claimed me I went under thinking about a peaceful meadow and a sky that was about to turn midnight blue.

When I woke up the loft was dark and it was well into the afternoon. I had definitely slept more than an hour according to the digital clock next to my wallet, gun, and badge on the nightstand. I woke up alone. It shouldn’t have surprised me after the way I had manhandled her and been all over her like a maniac. She was tough but every girl needed a little bit of finesse and I had given her none. No matter what she may have done in the past, or the choices she made that kept us on different sides of the law, she still deserved what every other girl that was willing to give of herself deserved, and I had given her nothing when she deserved everything for taking care of me.

Swearing at myself, I threw an arm over my eyes and tried not to think of every single thing I had done wrong where Reeve was concerned. It all started when I turned her over to Roark to begin with. I shouldn’t have let a badge automatically lead me to believe he was one of the good guys. I knew better than that. It had been dirty cops that had dragged me beaten and bloody to Novak. Cops that had been on the crime bosses’ payroll since before I had even made detective. The good guys were getting harder and harder to come by and yet I had been so blinded by revulsion at her actions, so outraged that such a pretty girl had done such ugly and illegal things, that I wanted her out of sight and out of mind. I thought with her in the marshal’s hands the desire that kicked at me when I looked at her would stop warring with my head screaming at me that she was bad news. I wanted her to be someone else’s problem because I felt guilty for wanting her. I thought she was bad news but that didn’t stop me from admiring her bold honesty about the pretty messed-up things she had done. The push and pull of my feelings toward the troublesome beauty had me shoving her off as quickly as I could before I did something foolish like take her to bed or fall in love.

I heard the front door open with a quiet snick and then the click of shoes on the floor. I could tell she was trying to be quiet in case I was still asleep, so I called down to her, “I’m up.”

She didn’t reply but I heard her steps change direction as she headed up the stairs. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked like you needed the rest.” Her head cleared the landing and her eyes skimmed over me before a flush worked into her face.

I looked down at myself and had to smirk. I was still on top of the covers and still very naked. All it took was her being in the same room to have my dick twitching in interest.

“I did. I wasn’t thinking very straight. Did you take care of whatever you needed to do?”

I could have sworn something that looked like guilt danced across her dark eyes, but then her attention landed on what was happening below my belly button and her expression shifted to something else.

“I did. Booker took care of it for me, and I also stopped and got you this.” I grunted a little as she pulled

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