I totally did not mean for that to happen. But at the same time…I don’t regret it. Not in the slightest. – Dean Woodall, Day 16 ~*~ I woke up to the delicious feeling of a broad chest against my back, an arm locked around my waist, and a pillow under my head. In fact, it felt so wonderful I didn’t want to open my eyes. “I can tell you’re awake,” Dean whispered against the back of my head. “You’re twitching.” With a groan, I flipped over and burrowed against his chest, trying to hide from the sunny, too-bright world. “If I wake up, that means we have to go back.” He laughed at that, and I felt the rumbles in his chest through my own body. Dean’s hand had slid to my hip, where my sarong had bunched up high on my legs. He was rubbing the exposed skin there with slow, smooth circles, as if he couldn’t resist touching me. My face grew hot as I recalled – whoever had left us the sarongs had not left us matching underwear.
