Sweetly Isolated (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 1)

P&P AF

Author's Note:

Another double update for you, my lovelies! This is 1 out of 2. Don't miss the next chapter!

Love,

K. xx

***

Day 6

"Oh no," Tina gasped and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth.

Holyoake was deep asleep... under her. Let's face it, the sofa was too short and narrow even just for him. Damn bear man. The only way they fit on it together was her basically lying on top of him, their legs intertwined, his arms wrapped around her.

The memories of the previous night resurfaced. Apparently there hadn't been any elaborate illusions this time. She'd just stumbled into the lounge, crawled under his duvet, hushed him when he started on his usual 'Go to bed, Clementine,' told him he was a prick, but 'warm and delicious,' and deftly had fallen into non-REM sleep. It's like it's a habit for you now, Tina. You don't even require any fantasies anymore. Like you're almost doing it consciously.

Tina groaned. How was she supposed to get out of this barney now? To add to her embarrassment, he was holding her tightly, and she'd either have to slither out of this bear hug, or wake him up and push his arms off her.

She decided she'd try the slithering out approach first and slowly pulled her leg from under his heavy hairy extremity. Her knee slid up his thigh, and he made a low groan-like noise. Bugger! She froze, holding her breath, and then he shifted, pulling her even closer into his chest and buried his nose in her hair behind her ear.

"Go to sleep, Clemmie," he murmured.

His left hand was resting on her forearm, and his thumb softly moved on her skin a couple times, in some sort of a sleepy caress.

Oh Lord.

And then he jolted, waking up, and jerked his hands away from her - making her tumble on the floor in an awkward heap of arms and legs, with a sad squeak, and then an 'ouch.'

Tina sat up and made a small whimpering noise. Now, both her elbows had been bruised.

"What the–" he muttered and looked down at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the routine," Tina said, rising. "I'll go make us coffee, and we can both pretend once again this didn't happen."

Suddenly she felt surprisingly gutted about said 'routine,' and quickly turned away from him, hiding her pathetic sad clock.

"Clementine," he said softly behind her.

Why was she feeling so sorry for herself?! He'd called her Clemmie! And he was warm and smelled so nice! And she just wanted to curl with him under that duvet - and pretend he wasn't John Holyoake, she didn't hate his guts, and he actually wanted that too! That's a lot of pretending, innit, Tina?

She sniffled and quickly walked away from him. The last thing she needed was for him to see her red eyes. She quickly washed her face in the bathroom and gave herself a glare in the mirror. Woman up, Popplewell. You're just being hormonal! You'd been inhaling his testosterone for hours - and now you're in withdrawal. Must be something chemical. Doesn't change what sort of a person inhabits the body you're craving.

That was good. That was a sober thought. She was just randy! She just wanted his body: the wide shoulders, the strong neck, the thighs, the shapely backside, the long-fingered hands all over her skin... Oh Lord, give Tina Popplewell strength! Meanwhile, the consciousness inside? She didn't crave that! He was heartless, predatory, judgemental, overbearing, and ruthless!