REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The early morning sunlight filtered through the window voiles. I squinted an eye open, and the second one followed, last night's hellacious behaviour suffocating my chest. Imbued with dreaded regret and embarrassment, I exhaled a shuddered breath, turned my head to the side and, with a delayed reaction, noticed a large figure sprawled on the bed beside me.

Liam Warren is in my bed.

His arm draped around my midsection protectively, his muscular back misted in clammy perspiration.

The double bed looked extremely small and uncomfortably unaccommodating for this man. He is far too big, too tall. His feet hung off the end. Tousled hair irritated his soft, lidded eyes. His full lips separated on almost imperceptible breaths.

I am in love with him.

Raking a hand through my unruly hair, I gingerly lifted his lifeless arm off my stomach and slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb him. I checked the time on my phone: ten a.m. It's late. In Liam's universe, he is expected at Club 11. He should be with the men. But he is not at work. He is here with me. He spent the entire night with me.

Last night's meltdown crashed around me. "Shit."

I went to the bathroom to relieve the bladder, washed my hands in the basin, squirted toothpaste on the toothbrush and scrutinised my reflection in the mirror. Mortified by my bedraggled appearance, I fussed with my hair. I don't want him to see me like this—

"Hey." Liam's throaty morning voice husked from the doorway, and I bristled. "Why didn't you wake me?"

I captured his eyes in the mirror. He put a shoulder to the doorframe, his hands moving south absentmindedly, relaxing over the bulge beneath the waistband of his black boxer briefs. His chiselled abdomen and glorious V-line tempted my eyes to wander in forbidden areas. Vigilantly brushing my teeth to avoid paste dribbling down my chin, I tell him, "I only just got up."

Liam moved to the toilet and, unabashed, urinated. Scratching his bare chest, he looked at the ceiling, and, oddly, I was transfixed by his vulnerability. He looked carefree and relaxed in my home. Plus, it's not often I see him untailored, unarmed and unguarded. Him, kicking back, not caring about his appearance, was not normal.

Pulling the flush, he washed his hands in the sink. "Do you have a spare?" Opening the wall-mounted cabinet, helping himself to a packaged toothbrush, he broke the seal, added paste to his brush and brushed his teeth. "How did you sleep?"

"Good," I mumbled over bristles, waiting for him to retreat before spitting the minty ambush out of my mouth.

Someone replaced the bathroom door. "Did you do that?" I asked, returning to the bedroom. "The door, I mean."

Liam checked the time on my phone. "I had the men over earlier." Fisting the front of my T-shirt, he forced me to straddle his thighs. His fingers crept under the oversized material to get a handful of my arse. "Are you okay?"