TAMING HOLLYWOOD'S BADDEST BO- Max Monroe Page 0,46

naked body.

His magnificent…penis.

Mortification spreads throughout my body, starting at my now-blushing cheeks and going all the way to my toes.

Good God, Luca Weaver must think I’m a…a… God, I don’t even know what he must think!

I take a deep breath, and when it stutters, force myself to take another. Okay. Okay, maybe I can just sneak out of here, and…I don’t know. Never think or speak or dream about this ever again.

Everything is fine.

I’m close to regaining my composure when Luca groans softly in his sleep, grips my hip again, pulls my back even closer to his chest, and then something very hard—very large and very firm—settles against the curve of my ass.

Is that what I think it is?

No way. I shake my head.

But I know in my heart of hearts, there’s no way it’s anatomically possible it’s anything else.

For the love of morning wood, Luca Weaver’s penis is poking me. Right now. Literally tap, tap, tapping against me like it’s trying to communicate something to me via Morse code.

And yet you’re still just lying here. Not moving.

Oh my god, am I seriously enjoying this?

I am a pervert! A sex-starved pervert!

I should not be enjoying the fact that Luca Weaver’s boner is pressed against my ass. Still, an aching throb begins to pulse between my thighs, and I mentally berate myself.

Oh my god, Billie! No one should get this excited about being poked by morning wood! It doesn’t matter whose it is!

My mind and body are at war.

And, as if he’s right on cue, Luca—and his boner—stirs behind me.

A raspy groan fills my ears, and I know, I just fucking know, I’m no longer the only one awake.

I brace myself for the awkwardness that will unfold. I wait for him to realize our current dilemma, possibly yell about the meaning of an invitation, and pull his body away from mine, but it never comes.

And before I can stop myself, before I can process what I’m saying, I lay my body upon my own awkwardly placed sword. “Your boner is literally poking me in the ass.”

“You’re welcome,” is his completely unhinged reply.

“That’s seriously your response right now?” I turn over on my side to meet his eyes, but I am unprepared for just how good Luca Weaver looks when he first wakes up in the morning.

Soft blue eyes. Ruffled hair. Full lips. A little grin. I could snap a photo of him like this, and it could be on the front of any magazine without needing Photoshop.

It’s infuriating.

Jesus, Billie. Fucking focus!

Right. Focus. On the boner situation.

I pointedly glance down toward his you know what that is no longer poking me in the ass and then meet his eyes again.

“You’re welcome?”

He shrugs blandly. “Yeah, princess. You’re the one who got into my sleeping bag last night, and I’m the one who didn’t turn you away. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask for a boner wake-up call!”

He smirks. “You think that has anything to do with you? Morning wood is a normal part of male physiology. It’s pretty much always going to come with the territory if you want to use my body as your heat source for the night.”

I try to act nonchalant about it all, but we are still in this fucking sleeping bag and he is way too fucking close and that stupid throbbing ache between my thighs refuses to go away. I move my gaze from his eyes to his mouth, and holy full, perfect lips, I want to kiss him so badly, it physically hurts.

So, I do the only thing I can do—I blame him for my own self-destruction.

In a huff, I get out of Luca’s sleeping bag and storm away, back out into the cold.

I can only hope it gives me one hell of a slap in the face. I need it.

Luca

I was wrong; Billie Harris, given the right opportunity, can absolutely pitch one hell of a tent. And let me tell you, accidental morning wood is a catalyst for one strange fucking day.

Shortly after Billie left my tent this morning in a bad mood, I found her outside, all packed up and ready to start today’s hike. At first, I was concerned about her hiking on an injured ankle, but she was adamant we needed to get moving.

So, that’s what we did.

Two miles into our trek and I’ve kept a watchful eye on her. So far, though, all appears okay. No limp or hobble or anything indicating pain. If her ankle is giving her discomfort, she