Haunted Hearts: A small town, enemies to lovers, ex-military standalone (Little Hope series Book 1) by Ariana Cane

Author:Ariana Cane [Cane, Ariana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-21T16:00:00+00:00

ALEX

The whimpers and sobs start at about one in the morning. I’m lying awake on the sofa, as expected, trying to figure out what the fuck I’m doing. I’d been seconds away from ravishing her where she stood. I wanted to slide into her, grab those delicious hips, and pump into her until those gorgeous eyes roll back in her head. God, the way she wiped me over her lips. I almost came right there, imagining what else she could be wiping like that.

I slide my hands into the front of my pants to try and fend off the desire steamrolling through me. I’m so wound up that I need to close my eyes to get my thoughts under control.

Although… I open my eyes and peek at the closed bedroom door. Would it be terrible for a quick release of pressure while Freya is asleep? It’s better than the alternative, and I don’t want to be so riled up around Freya’s presence for the next couple of days, and blue balls tend to do just that.

I pull my pants around my thighs and grip tight on my erection. I’d seen Freya’s glances at it and the idea of giving it to her had seemed so appealing. It still does.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts, the commotion from the bedroom starts. I still and sit up, one hand on my dick, my ears pricked and listening for trouble.

I’m on my feet, my pants yanked back at my waist, when there’s a scream from the bedroom. There was no way that anyone had gotten through that window and even more unlikely they’d managed to sneak past me, but I grab hold of the nearest weapon I have, a table lamp, pulling the cord from the wall, and push my way into the bedroom.

She’s alone. And asleep. And thrashing on my bed from side to side. I can see her form clearly through the window light, the moon is bright today and no skies. Freya’s forehead is covered in sweat and her pillow looks to be drenched. I sigh and put the lamp on the nightstand—carefully this time, before sitting on the edge of the bed gently. I’ll just have to get rid of all the lamps in my house if they’re going to have such a short lifespan around me.

“Freya,” I whisper urgently, carefully resting my hand on her arm in fear of making it worse. Her bruises are visible in the moonlight where her sleep shirt has ridden up, large, dark islands all over her pretty skin. “Freya, you’re having a nightmare.” But she’s too out of it, so I shake her a little. “Freya, it’s me.” She doesn’t respond and begin thrashing even more violently. I can’t watch this anymore and crawl on the bed toward her. “Freya, wake up.” Nothing. So I do the only thing I can think of right now and pull her into my arms, giving her my strength to live through her nightmare and come out victorious.

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