The Soldier's Scoundrel (The Turner Series, #1)

by Cat Sebastian

Jack trailed his hand down Oliver’s arm, which was flung out on the mattress beside him. Oliver was stronger than he looked. His muscles were lean and wiry but powerful. He realized that Oliver’s eyes were now open, regarding him from beneath sleep-heavy eyelids. “Hush,” Jack said. “It’s not time to wake yet.” Which was a stupid thing to say since hadn’t he just decided that Oliver belonged back in his own bed? But the fact was that Jack wanted a few more minutes to appreciate the man’s frankly excessive beauty without having to hide his admiration behind a veil of grumpiness or displeasure. Stupid, stupid. He made a move to get out of bed, only to find that one of those wiry arms had wrapped itself around his waist, dragging him back to the mattress. “Wait.” Oliver pressed Jack’s back against his own chest and held him there. “I should go downstairs,” Jack protested, his voice gruff. “I need the local gossip about the Durbins and Lewises.” “Later.” Oliver kissed Jack’s shoulder while trailing his hand down Jack’s abdomen. “What are you doing?” he asked, because he felt like he ought to make some effort to wrest control of this situation. Oliver ignored the question, which was only right because it couldn’t be clearer what he was doing. “You have scars too,” he said, to Jack’s surprise. More surprising was the way that too made Jack’s heart clench. Jack most certainly did have scars, though. He had never had what he would call a serious injury but nonetheless had a good ha...