8
“Work with me.”
Aiden’s postcoital game could use some work. Not that I needed cuddles and sweet words.
Actually, I’d gotten the cuddles.
I was still freaking out about the cuddles.
At some point I’d woken still in Aiden’s arms. It took some maneuvering, but I extricated myself, rolled a foot away, and went back to sleep.
I enjoyed a good postorgasm nap but sleeping away the day in my lover’s arms had never been my schtick.
And I just couldn’t. Especially not with Aiden.
Then he’d woken up and dropped a shitty job offer on me.
I was sprawled on my stomach, a pleasant ache in my p***y, and my eyes closed.
“Hell, no.” I didn’t even stop to consider, because Aiden had lost his ever-loving mind.
We were a mess as a team. I’d ceded control to him—always a bad idea—and look what had
