***Piper***
I rolled over and snuggled down into my pillow, pulling the blanket up to my chin, but it didn't move. Tugging again, it wouldn't move.
What the hell? I grumbled under my breath. Opening my eyes, I looked down and froze. A tattooed arm was resting on my hip, and my blanket was trapped under it.
Slowly, I peeked over my shoulder. I sucked in a breath as I came face-first to a bare chest. Moving my eyes up, I took in the wide throat and thick neck muscles, the strong jawline, and then the face, the high cheekbones, his perfect nose, and his closed eyes. He looked peaceful.
I felt the urge to trace his jaw. I could see some stubble and wanted to scratch it with my fingers. Peter never grew facial hair; he was always shaved smooth. But Bear was all man; he wasn't some young boy
