no turning back

• twenty nine •

gladys

A shiver brought me to the edge of consciousness. Sighing, I reached for the sheets, only to realize they were nowhere within reach and I was completely exposed.

My eyes flew open as my weary brain jumped to the worst conclusions. I was in jail, where there were apparently no blankets. Panic ripped through me. I was in hell and little demons were about to munch on my vulnerable toes!

Seeing Elijah's lump on the other side of the bed soothed my anxieties. Then, I realized where all the covers went.

"You little shit," I grumbled, reaching across the mattress to snatch some cotton comfort and security away from him.

Before I let all my fatigue and pettiness storm his nestled cocoon like Normandy, an arm shot out from the covers and grabbed my thigh. I blinked in surprise and waited for whatever more was to come. When he didn't move or speak, I realized Eli was still asleep.

A curious hum slipped through my lips. I scooted closer and peered over him to see his face, as he was lying on his side. His feathery, black lashes were so long that they practically rested on his cheekbones. He was frowning in his sleep, his thick brows knitted together and his lips pursed.

Still, he was so beautiful. I bit my lip and brushed a loose leaf of dark hair from his forehead. His complexion was smooth and tan, except for a few shallow wrinkles here and there. They honestly just added more to his rugged appeal.

The hand on my thigh tightened, nails digging into my skin. I hissed and that seemed to wake him up. Rolling onto his back, which put him in my lap, he blinked blearily up at me. My heart faltered at his adorable sleepy look.

He raised a hand to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" His voice was gravelly and low.

Wetting my suddenly parched mouth, I shrugged. "Dunno. I was going to steal my covers back but now I don't think I can fall back asleep."

Elijah lifted his head to survey the bed, realizing his thievery. His head dropped down to his pillow. Rather than straighten the covers out as a true gentleman would, the hand at my thigh reached up to my waist and yanked me flush to his warm body. He pulled the covers over our heads and curled himself around me.

I blinked and his face was in mine. There was nothing sleepy about the look on it now.

Swallowing hard, I asked, "Is this a slumber party now?"

The gleam of his slow smile in the dark kickstarted my pulse. "Is this what girls do at slumber parties? Interesting."

I smacked him lightly in the chest and rolled my eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," he murmured, "or you'll be spanked and fucked before coffee time."

"No spanking," I said firmly, holding an authoritative index finger at him. "Or fucking."

"We broke your minimum rule plenty yesterday. I think it's safe to say it's been abolished."

My jaw dropped. "No way. It absolutely still stands. Yesterday was just emotionally . . . rough."

Flipping over, I tried to crawl away. I never won these arguments, so I needed to make a quick getaway before he could degrade my resolve.