Chapter Twenty-Nine

                                    

                                          



One way or another, he was getting himself back into Reagan's life, whether she wanted him there or not.
Where Reagan Sinclair was concerned, he'd come to learn the importance of a plan. Which was why after hours of thinking he'd come up with a new way to handle her.
His decision was final.
He'd act, doing what needed to be done, taking her anger as she dished it. He'd make these decisions and face the consequences for them from her later. Because, certainly, there would be consequences.
I'll take anything she gives me.
Which was why, barely an hour before sunrise, he teleported into her bedroom.
She laid beneath her covers; nose scrunched up even as she slept. Through the darkness of the room, his gaze fell on the tightness with which she held her pillow.
Act now, face the consequences later—
He slipped his shoes off and pulled her duvet back, slipping into the bed beside her.
When his arm fell across her body and pulled her taut against his chest, a cold frosted over her skin. She froze, waking. A second of silence ticked by. He knew she'd be assessing the brawny forearm across her body, recognising his scent through her hazy sleep-filled mind and putting it all on him.
Slowly, ever so slowly, it was all dawning on her. "What. Are. You. Doing?"
Face the consequences later—
"I'm going to sleep."
"Go sleep in your own bed."
"Yours is better than mine." He snuggled closer into her warmth. "I'm sleeping here."
"No—you—don't—" She tried to push him off the bed. He viced her arms to her sides, tucking her in a hug-like position.
At her ear, he murmured, "It's time to talk strategy."
"You're not supposed to—"
He cut her off, rumbling, "I want you Reagan."
And she knew better than anyone that when he wanted something, no amount of time waiting would dissuade him.
"Huh," She bit back. "Then I'm like your throne. Forever unattainable."
He caught her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled. "Yet I constantly come close to having it."
"You constantly come close to letting me die too," She barked, laying still, resigned to her fate. "I stand by it. Dead. To. Me."
"Can't stand by it if you're laying down."
She groaned, prying his arms away to sit up. He, of course, followed her up.
To sleep, she'd wore a slinky tank top. Through it, he spotted the hard peaks of her nipples before she gave him her back.
He scraped the strawberry blonde hair away from her nape, dropping it over her shoulder to plant his mouth on her neck and trail fluttery kisses along her back.
Those kisses didn't last long.
She turned abruptly, pinning him to the bed.
Straddling me.
He liked this position. Liked the hardness of her nipples. The way her shorts rode up her ass. The way she leered down over him. The way the pretty core he dreamed of was planted directly above his cock.
"My emotions aren't something for you to play with, General."
So she admitted he made her feel things.