7
Holt woke on the cusp of dawn with an armful of warm, sleep-scented woman and the corresponding morning wood urging him to roll her beneath him for the wedding night he’d denied them both.
Not what she needs, jackass.
Willing away the erection, he turned his face into her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it against his cheek. They didn’t have time for a lazy morning. There was work for them both and school for Maddie. But for a few more minutes, he could enjoy this closeness. Sometime in the night, she’d rolled over, and he’d gone with her, wrapping around as big spoon. His palm pressed against the softness of her belly beneath the sleep shirt. Because it itched to slide higher to explore the curve of her breasts and the hard-on wasn’t showing any signs of flagging, he eased away, car
