Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,20
she just wanted the girls for herself.”
For the rest of the evening, Kendrick was surprisingly attentive for a guy who claimed that watching over me would be a sacrifice. He ordered me a red lentil soup with a ham and cheese sandwich, and reminded me to take my tablets.
His calming presence was exactly what I needed while feeling so delicate. Instead of fussing over me like Orlando and Maxwell might have done under these circumstances, he gave me space to process the day but always seemed to know if I needed more water, a cup of tea, or even a charger for my smartphone.
Kendrick reminded me so much of Gideon, who also had a cool, quiet exterior. I wondered if like Gideon, it hid a depth of loyalty and warmth.
As the evening wore on, the warm air swirled around the room, making my eyes grow heavy. I placed a hand to my mouth and yawned.
“Nine-forty-five.” Kendrick stood and walked over to my armchair.
“Huh?” I gazed up into his gray eyes, remembering the Kendrick I had befriended earlier in the year. That version of him had been just as nice and as kind as him.
The corner of Kendrick’s mouth curled into a smile. “If you go to bed now, you’ll get seven hours of sleep before breakfast.”
“Right.” I toed off my shoes and unbuttoned my jeans.
Kendrick rocked forward, his eyes bulging. “What are you doing?”
“Getting into bed.” I raised my hips, pulled my jeans down my legs, and eased them off my ankles.
He turned around, breathing hard. “You were supposed to use the bathroom.”
“Sorry.” I pulled my top over my head, unhooked my bra, and let the garment drop to the floor. “It’s too late, now. Let’s just go to bed.”
Kendrick turned around, his gaze lingering on my bare breasts. Pink bloomed across his cheeks. “Lilah Hancock.”
“What, now?” I stretched out my hand in a silent order for him to pull me out of my seat.
Kendrick stepped back, his jaw clenched. “You’re naked.”
“Not yet.” I hooked my thumbs under my knickers.
“Don’t do that,” he hissed.
I pulled myself to my feet, rubbed my temple, and blinked myself back into awareness. For some reason, I didn’t think it would be a problem to get undressed in front of Kendrick. If Myra hadn’t shot at me this morning, he would have gotten a front-row seat to a spit roast. He probably might have participated, too. Maybe it was the concussion, but I had no idea what he found so offensive.
Kendrick advanced on me with his nostrils flared, and his skin darkening each time his gaze dropped to my nipples. “If you think I’ll get into bed with you in that state—”
“You volunteered to take care of me.” I wrapped my arms around his middle. “Stop acting like I’m about to pin you down and climb up your pole.”
“You won’t?”
“Not unless you ask nicely.” I drew back and met his shocked eyes with a smile.
Kendrick pushed back a lock of hair and tucked it behind my ear. “What am I going to do with you?”
“How about letting me curl up around you and fall asleep?”
He sniffed. “I might be amenable to your request.”
I drew back and placed my hands on his chest. Rapid heartbeats reverberated beneath my palms, a sign of heat beneath his cold exterior.
“Did you bring pajamas or something?” I asked.
“It hardly seems appropriate, considering your level of undress.” Kendrick lowered me to the mattress and held out his palm in the universal sign for stop. It was the kind of gesture people made to ferocious dogs just before they attacked. I sat back, resting my palms on the mattress behind me and let my gaze rove up and down Kendrick’s body.
He wore a navy sweater and underneath that, a white-and-gray striped shirt, with dark pants in a subtle herringbone pattern. As he’d angled his body away from me, I couldn’t see the state of his arousal. Judging by his heavy breathing, he sounded like a man ready to fuck.
I squeezed my thighs together, fighting off the urge to help him undress. With every item of clothing he removed, Kendrick turned around to check that I was still watching. What a bloody tease. Maxwell and Orlando would have had me flat on this mattress, moaning and writhing under their hands and tongues.
Heat surged between my legs, and arousal stirred in my core. There was something to be said about a man who played hard to get. I’d seen Kendrick’s body before on Maxwell,