Page 30 of Code Violation

. . .

Vesper

Two hands, belonging to Silas, wrap underneath my ass as he peels me from the couch and starts walking us through to my bedroom.

It’s late at night, and once again, I fell asleep with my head resting on Silas’s shoulder, the smell of his cologne acting like a drug and knocking me unconscious.

Keeping my eyes closed, I feel the comforting weight of my duvet settle over my body as he sets me down gently on the mattress.

I can sense him lingering in my bedroom.

Silas has always fascinated me, even when I was determined not to let it show. But now, having spent more time with him over these past three weeks, I’m struggling to deny that fascination has morphed into something more, and I’m growing feelings for a man I’ve always thought was hot.

When light footsteps move toward my bedroom door, I whisper the word “stay.”

It hangs between us as I wait and see what he’ll do next. If he turns and walks away, then I’ll know he feels awkward, climbing into my bed without the excuse of a pizza resting in our laps or the tension of a thriller movie granting me license to snuggle further into the safety of his presence.

At the sound of a belt buckle, I can’t help but crack an eyelid, just in time to appreciate Silas as he removes his blue dress shirt, his fingers moving from one button to the next. Drenched in moonlight filtering into the room, his chiseled body is more glorious than I could’ve imagined, a legacy from thousands of hard hours in the gym.

We make eye contact as I shift back toward the wall and rest my head on a pillow.

“I’ll overheat if I get into bed fully dressed.” His eyes drop down his body at the same time I take him in once more. “But if you want me to wear a shirt, then I can.”

I flip back the duvet, silently telling him to get his ass in bed and stop worrying.

Silas has always shown me nothing but respect, even when I pushed him away in the past.

He settles down beside me, initially staring up at the ceiling before he turns to face me, our mouths only a few inches apart.

Five minutes ago, I was fast asleep, and now I couldn’t be more awake if I’d nailed three cups of strong coffee.

“I’m going to go all cliché for a second and ask what you’re thinking about.”

I press my lips together, searching for an appropriate response because how hot you are doesn’t seem entirely suitable for this moment.

Or maybe ever, given who I am to him.

“How grateful I am to have you here right now,” I finally say.

A warm, large palm rests on my hip, radiating heat through my nightwear and shooting tingles down my spine.

“There isn’t another place on this earth I’d rather be than here, with you, Knockout.”

I smile at that and also the nickname I seem to have gotten.

“Why do you call me Knockout?”

His fingertips press gently into my flesh. “You don’t think it suits you?”

I shrug my left shoulder. “Whenever you call me that, all I can think about is boxing.”

Silas blows a laugh out into the room, face edging a tiny bit closer to mine. “I guess I can see the accuracy in that. There have been times when I thought you might take a swing at me.”

I shift forward until my chest brushes lightly against his, and I see the hitch in his breathing.

“Am I too close?” I ask, wanting to repay the respect he showed me earlier.

After a beat, he shakes his head gently, pulling my hips into his.