Starting Point - Elle Aycart Page 0,3

the eye, but the scars were there.

He wrapped the Mylar around her, took off his coat and shirt, and hugged her, hoping his body heat would help raise hers. Fuck, she was skinny. She might need warm intravenous fluids. If she didn’t come to soon, he’d call reinforcements.

He lay on the sofa with her on top of him, rubbing her arms and back. Keeping his cheek on her forehead, trying to assess her temperature. He was always a degree or so hotter than an average person, so in no time he was radiating heat like a furnace, and little by little her body warmed up. He brushed a strand of platinum-blonde hair away from her face. Her lips were no longer blue. Her pulse was stronger. Shit, that had been a close call.

And like that, panic turned to anger. Stupid woman. What the fuck had she been thinking? Damn Heather’s fondness for finding renters through Craigslist. As if NoName needed more weirdos.

He thought about disentangling himself from underneath her, but he was afraid that would wake her up. And if she woke up, angry as he was now, he would read her the Riot Act at the top of his lungs, which would freak her out. There was a good chance she would be too drunk to care, though. After all, he couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or had passed out shitfaced. The latter, probably.

Be that as it may, he’d already dealt with enough city folks and their crap today. He could use a break. And some shut-eye too. This sofa was the first soft surface he’d had under him in days. Not to mention she was the first woman he’d had over him in a very long time—but he shook that thought away. It had been an emergency. This was all about keeping her alive.

He gave another glance at the woman softly snoring on top of him. He touched her forehead again. Warm. She was going to be fine. He could relax. And he might as well catch some Zs himself, because exhaustion was catching up to him.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping, but next time he opened his eyes, the sun was rising and the woman on top of him was nuzzling his chest. She’d managed to disentangle herself from the blanket and her little hands were feeling him up. Oh shit. So that was what had woken him. He was being fondled. And his body liked it.

He cleared his throat. “You okay, lady?”

If she heard him, she didn’t bother answering. She caressed his pecs and went back to nuzzling him. “Thank you, Great Goddess. Thank you. You nailed it. Down to the tattoos.”

Crap. His hard-on was getting bigger by the second. Now the motherfucker was interested. Being groped by a half-conscious woman was the most action he’d had in ages. Such a testament to his sex life. “You okay?” he repeated, his voice barely there.

“I am now,” she whispered, her tongue flickering too close to his nipple. “Can we skip the nickel tour of heaven? I’ve got all I ever prayed for right here.”

Alec wasn’t one for nickel tours either. He was also too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a confused woman. But he couldn’t help asking, “All you ever prayed for?”

She nodded, her sweet mouth moving up to his throat, the tips of her hair tickling his skin. Man, she smelled so good, even after getting shitfaced. Go figure. Her forehead touched his chin and she let out a moan. “Stubble. Love stubble burns. On my face. On my thighs.”

Holy crap. He closed his eyes, trying to get the situation under control. Fighting to get words out. Nothing came.

Her lips brushed over his stubble. When he opened his eyes, he saw hers. They were smoky gray. Opaque. With unbelievably thick eyelashes. He hadn’t seen such striking eyes in twenty years. Since…

He froze. “Meg?”

She ignored his question and looked around, seemingly surprised by her surroundings. A frown formed on her face. She blinked several times and then, as if something had dawned on her, she wrenched away with a surprised yell, covering herself with the blanket.

Alec lifted his arms, trying to look harmless. It wasn’t easy. After all, he had over a hundred pounds on her and was almost naked.

She glanced around again, confusion clouding her beautiful eyes. Yes, she was Megan. No doubt about it. He’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Although last time he’d seen her, she’d been a chubby