“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” he asked, gruffly. “No. We’re . . . we can be mature about this. Don’t be silly.” His attention swept her body, a ripple going through his jaw. “I don’t know, Rocket. I still think I should.” Why was her pulse going so fast? “Okay. Why?” “I’m worried I’ll be half asleep and . . . touch you without thinking.” He huffed a sound. “I mean, Christ. It takes concentration not to touch you when I’m awake.”
