Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) by Rhenna Morgan Page B

parted lips. Her head was angled to one side, languid and easy. Peaceful.
    Innocent.
    Untouched by anyone but him.
    His stomach clenched. Reason stomped past the raging length between his legs and scowled at his conscience. Getting her off was one thing, but taking her innocence would shoot them to a whole different level of intense. He might be mercenary in getting information for his brother, but he’d be damned if he fucked Trinity over with something as important as this.
    He shifted and pulled the comforter over her.
    Her head lulled to one side and she yawned. Actually yawned. It was cute. Like a kitten settling into a cozy spot.
    He tucked her close, her back to his front. “Relax, Sunshine. Give into it. I’m not going anywhere.”
    Not until morning, anyway. He’d hold her. Revel in being her first, in this at least, and then take a shot at researching her tomorrow. The right way.
    His dick would just have to live with it.

Chapter 8
    T rinity snuggled deeper beneath her blankets, her quiet cocoon cooling just enough to tug her from sleep. Gentle sunshine danced behind her eyelids and a dark, sensual scent clung to her pillowcase.
    Saturday. Perfect for lazing a few extra hours—
    Dark scent?
    Ramsay.
    She shot upright and blinked to clear her vision. She didn’t have a stitch on, and her clothes were scattered over the floor. The sheets and blankets were twisted in a chaotic mess. Not at all the tidy, barely-ruffled pattern from a normal night of sleep.
    She hadn’t imagined it. She’d actually gotten naked with Ramsay and had her first mind-blowing orgasm with a man.
    So where the heck was he?
    She scrambled out of bed and snatched her robe off the back of her bedroom door. Light pushed between the blind slats, and the shouts and laughter of kids somewhere down the block flittered through the windows, but her apartment was silent.
    The bathroom door sat open, no lights on. Her office was empty too. She rushed down the hall to the living room and kitchen.
    Nothing.
    She fisted the sides of her robes between her breasts and glanced back at her bedroom.
    The picture of Ramsay poised between her thighs, his dark hair tickling her skin, flashed in excruciating detail, and the muscles in her belly rippled. Oh, no. Her imagination was excellent. Freakishly creative, for that matter, but she did not make that up. No one could make something like that up.
    She padded to the kitchen. Maybe he’d needed to run an errand. Or had work to do. Whatever it was, she could figure it out over coffee. Everything puzzled together better with coffee.
    She rounded the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and marched toward the pantry. Next to the coffeemaker was a paper towel with black writing in sharp angles, the Sharpie from her office perched on top.
    Need a few days to wrap up an issue at work. Dinner when it’s done?

    R

    P.S. You’re cute when you sleep.
    He’d left his number, which was a good sign. Wasn’t it?
    God, the things he’d done. The way he’d touched her and the way she’d responded. Maybe her dad was right. Maybe she really did have some of the legendary passion of the Black contingent flowing in her veins.
    She leaned into the counter and studied Ramsay’s broad scribbles, fingering the rough edge of the paper towel.
    You’re cute when you sleep.
    Sleep. Holy crap! She’d actually slept without her ear buds. She never slept without them. Too much noise from her Spiritu self trying to break through her unconscious. At least that’s what Dad claimed.
    It must have been the orgasm.
    An unpleasant and weighty sensation spread from head to toe.
    Ramsay hadn’t had one. She’d come harder than she ever had in her life and promptly fallen off to Snoozeville. He hadn’t even gotten his clothes off. Was she out of her freakin’ mind?
    Trinity gripped the countertop and squeezed her eyes shut. No wonder he’d left. Hell, he probably ditched her in the middle of the night. What kind of woman