Sleeping… isn't happening.
Kind of obvious, considering.
My entire body's languid, worn out from Caine's touch and the emotional overload of the moment. My face? On fire. And my heart…
…is a little frustrated.
Even after a bird bath in the bathroom—a shower would be too much noise, and I don't want to wake the children—and about ten solid minutes of me pacing in circles trying to figure out if I'm a virgin or not, along with some regret over not looking down to see exactly how much "the tip" means, I finally flop back into my tiny third of the bed, grateful for once Bun has rolled all the way over to the other side, curled up in her sister's warmth.
Then I bang my face against my pillow a few times with a silent groan.
Stupid. Couldn't just grit my teeth and bear it for a few more minutes? Overreact from a little pain and the man won't even pop my cherry properly.
