Derrick's POV
Nathan lay beside me, snoring softly. The scent of that scumbag had long since faded from his body; now he smelled like me. Like the sweat we had exchanged just minutes ago. His breath was quiet, his face buried in the pillow as he lay flat on his stomach, barely covered by the rumpled sheets of the bed.
My gaze swept over the contours and ridges of his exposed legs—perfectly toned, with the right amount of delicate muscle. Heat rushed through my body in waves, and I cleared my throat, tearing my eyes away from him.
He was far too weak to handle another round.
I jumped off the bed, grabbing my pants and the shirt I had tossed aside earlier. It didn't take me up to two minutes to get dressed and ready to face whatever duties waited for me.
My eyes wandered back to the bed where he lay, deep in sleep, undisturbed by the world.
