𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | roy kent

9 | LET IT GO

𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙋𝙊𝙊𝙇 𝙃𝘼𝙎 𝙈𝙐𝘾𝙃 𝙏𝙊 𝙊𝙁𝙁𝙀𝙍. 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘽𝙎, 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝘼𝙎𝙄𝘼𝙉 𝙋𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙆𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙊𝙆𝙀!

[ 1.07 - 1.08 ]

LOTTIE woke up surrounded by warmth. The bed had not been this comfortable when she had finally fallen asleep. It was like Roy's bed was its own source of melatonin. Within a. few minutes, Lottie had passed out.

She slowly cracked her eyes open to adjust to the bright light of the morning sun shining through the room's big window overlooking Liverpool's streets. Once her vision focused, she looked down and realized her heat source was a strong, hairy arm wrapped around her chest, holding her against a muscular chest. The pillow divider was long gone, having been kicked off the bed hours ago in the deep sleep.

She felt Roy's chest rise and fall and his warm breath against her ear as he slept. Since he was asleep, Lottie saw no harm in relishing in the intimate moment. Her legs were tangled up in his, and though she had joked about his hairy legs the previous night, she couldn't feel the texture through her pajama pants. She wouldn't have cared anyway. In fact, she found his physical masculinity incredibly attractive. She made an effort not to move even an inch in fear that he would wake up and release her.

Unfortunately for her, her freezing foot moved only an inch, brushing against his warm leg. Roy jolted awake at the sensation, and his arms tightened around her as he woke up. She held her breath and kept perfectly still, praying that her lack of movement would trick his sleepy brain into not sensing her.

But Roy wasn't stupid. Only seconds after he woke up, he realized how his arms were wrapped around a soft figure with soft, blonde curls draped over his eyes and face. When he realized what she was doing, he cleared his throat. "Lottie?"

Lottie felt a bolt of pleasure strike her core at the rasp of his low morning voice. It had a gruffness that sent shivers down her spine, causing her to brush against his growing morning wood.

He was a thirty-five-year-old man with a healthy sexual appetite and a breathtaking woman in his arms while lying in a bad. Sue him.

He purposefully adjusted himself so that his hips were distanced away from hers, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in any way. He had not been joking about her cold feet or her hair the previous night, but he had to admit that waking up to them hadn't been the worst thing in the world. It had been quite pleasant, actually.

"Roy," she greeted nervously, still keeping her back to him, partly because she didn't want him to smell her morning breath, and the other because she was worried that if she moved, he would kick her out. Not that he didn't have the right to. She was crashing his much-needed sleep at his private hotel room in his singular bed.