acquainted with my panties.
Hello!
I screamed bloody murder as he pinned my hands over my head, successfully restraining me.
The lights suddenly shot on, blinding us both as Bowen, Sawyer and Thatcher came barreling down the stairs.
"Reeve?" Bowen blinked down at us, dumbfounded.
He took in the man on top of me, my nightgown hiked up around my hips- giving everyone a free show- his hips pinned to mine, pants around his ankles, boots still on.
This is not what you're thinkin' boys! I thought as I continued to hiss and spit at my captor.
"What the fuck are you doing, Reeve?" Sawyer demanded, shocked, acting as if he was going to come over and help, but a little unsure, it seemed, who would need it most right now- me or this Reeve person.
Reeve?
Who the fuck is Reeve and why haven't I heard of him?
"This isn't what you're thinking! She attacked me ," the man pinning me down growled as I fought him like a wild cat.
I grunted in satisfaction when I felt my nails digging into his flesh.
A surprised yelp escaped him when I dug them in harder, hoping I left a mark, maybe several.
Jerking my wrists, I finally managed to wrangle a hand free and aimed right for his face.
Much faster than me, he grunted in frustration and grabbed it, subduing it immediately before I could do any lasting damage.
I squeaked as his large body loomed over me and he leaned down to hiss in my ear, "Stop moving or you're gonna pop my god damned dick out of my boxer shorts with all of your wiggling around, woman."
Shriek, anyone? Well, don’t mind if I do.
And that’s exactly what I did, right next to his ear.
"Get off of me, pervert , and you won't have to worry about them seeing your itty bitty petey!" I snapped.
He glared at me in silence and seethed inwardly for a moment, face an angry, splotchy red.
I thought he was about to say something back when Thatcher tried to push past Sawyer.
"Get your hands off her, Reeve!" Thatcher hissed at this Reeve person.
Oh, good, someone has remained awake enough to show a little sanity!
Thank you, Thatcher!
Bowen and Sawyer seemed more amused than anything as they watched me cuss out the hulking monster of a man on top of me.
At first, he’d looked downright scary when they'd first turned the lights on- I'll be the first to admit it.
He's at least six foot two-ish, to my five foot four and three quarters, with wide shoulders and long limbs.
A scar ran down the length of the right side of his face, marring his eyebrow, eye and the upper part of his top lip, giving him an almost sinister look about him- a perpetual snarl.
His semi-permanent sneer just added to the I don’t give a fuck attitude he exudes, as if he was thumbing his nose at the world.
The eye on that side was milky white, letting me know he more than likely couldn't see out of it.
He lacked the sheer muscle mass that Sawyer and Bowen possess, but clearly had the compact strength in his lean body to keep me from breaking his hold.
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't buck him off either.
"I saw her first! I already called dibs, damn it!" Thatcher protested, cutting in on my inner thoughts.
Well, so much for Thatcher being the voice of reason in all of this.
I really should have seen something like that comin' from him, though.
Gee! Thanks a lot, Thatcher!
'Don't touch her, brah, she's mine'. Really? I don't think so.
"Like hell!" I hollered and tried to head butt Mr. Reeve, lord of the grumpy bastards in soggy drawers.
He moved back in time, and I gritted my teeth as Bowen and Sawyer chuckled at us.
"What the hell do you think is so damn funny!?" I demanded as I scowled at them.
Ephraim had just finally decided to grace us with his presence, blinking at us owlishly as he shuffled into the room.
"Reeve?" Ephraim mumbled after a moment, "Shouldn't you be doin' somethin' like that in a bedroom?"
My face heated, burning my cheeks.
"We aren't... I'm not... Oh, get off of me, you big wet oaf! You're squashing me!" I
Hello!
I screamed bloody murder as he pinned my hands over my head, successfully restraining me.
The lights suddenly shot on, blinding us both as Bowen, Sawyer and Thatcher came barreling down the stairs.
"Reeve?" Bowen blinked down at us, dumbfounded.
He took in the man on top of me, my nightgown hiked up around my hips- giving everyone a free show- his hips pinned to mine, pants around his ankles, boots still on.
This is not what you're thinkin' boys! I thought as I continued to hiss and spit at my captor.
"What the fuck are you doing, Reeve?" Sawyer demanded, shocked, acting as if he was going to come over and help, but a little unsure, it seemed, who would need it most right now- me or this Reeve person.
Reeve?
Who the fuck is Reeve and why haven't I heard of him?
"This isn't what you're thinking! She attacked me ," the man pinning me down growled as I fought him like a wild cat.
I grunted in satisfaction when I felt my nails digging into his flesh.
A surprised yelp escaped him when I dug them in harder, hoping I left a mark, maybe several.
Jerking my wrists, I finally managed to wrangle a hand free and aimed right for his face.
Much faster than me, he grunted in frustration and grabbed it, subduing it immediately before I could do any lasting damage.
I squeaked as his large body loomed over me and he leaned down to hiss in my ear, "Stop moving or you're gonna pop my god damned dick out of my boxer shorts with all of your wiggling around, woman."
Shriek, anyone? Well, don’t mind if I do.
And that’s exactly what I did, right next to his ear.
"Get off of me, pervert , and you won't have to worry about them seeing your itty bitty petey!" I snapped.
He glared at me in silence and seethed inwardly for a moment, face an angry, splotchy red.
I thought he was about to say something back when Thatcher tried to push past Sawyer.
"Get your hands off her, Reeve!" Thatcher hissed at this Reeve person.
Oh, good, someone has remained awake enough to show a little sanity!
Thank you, Thatcher!
Bowen and Sawyer seemed more amused than anything as they watched me cuss out the hulking monster of a man on top of me.
At first, he’d looked downright scary when they'd first turned the lights on- I'll be the first to admit it.
He's at least six foot two-ish, to my five foot four and three quarters, with wide shoulders and long limbs.
A scar ran down the length of the right side of his face, marring his eyebrow, eye and the upper part of his top lip, giving him an almost sinister look about him- a perpetual snarl.
His semi-permanent sneer just added to the I don’t give a fuck attitude he exudes, as if he was thumbing his nose at the world.
The eye on that side was milky white, letting me know he more than likely couldn't see out of it.
He lacked the sheer muscle mass that Sawyer and Bowen possess, but clearly had the compact strength in his lean body to keep me from breaking his hold.
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't buck him off either.
"I saw her first! I already called dibs, damn it!" Thatcher protested, cutting in on my inner thoughts.
Well, so much for Thatcher being the voice of reason in all of this.
I really should have seen something like that comin' from him, though.
Gee! Thanks a lot, Thatcher!
'Don't touch her, brah, she's mine'. Really? I don't think so.
"Like hell!" I hollered and tried to head butt Mr. Reeve, lord of the grumpy bastards in soggy drawers.
He moved back in time, and I gritted my teeth as Bowen and Sawyer chuckled at us.
"What the hell do you think is so damn funny!?" I demanded as I scowled at them.
Ephraim had just finally decided to grace us with his presence, blinking at us owlishly as he shuffled into the room.
"Reeve?" Ephraim mumbled after a moment, "Shouldn't you be doin' somethin' like that in a bedroom?"
My face heated, burning my cheeks.
"We aren't... I'm not... Oh, get off of me, you big wet oaf! You're squashing me!" I
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