Something Has to Give Read Online Free PDF

the night.
    “ Damn it!” he swore, lifting his head off the bed’s only pillow while he tried ineffectively to tug back enough to cover himself.
    She grabbed the pillow next and yanked it out from under him, then lay down facing the door with it clutched tight in both hands.
    Swearing again, she could feel Rydecker’s indecision a bare moment before he elbowed the mattress i n frustration and lay back down with his head now cushioned on his own forearm.
    It was a Mexican sleep-off, and it was one she intended to win. Back to back, they made that bed into a silent battlefield , and neither one of them slept easily or well.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    December 22 nd …
    Quint awoke with the light of the rising sun glaring through a crack in the window curtain and falling directly across his face. Right away he knew he had two major problems: the first, Elsie was making a full-frontal assault on his side of the bed. Sometime during the night, he had taken back the pillow, and she had retaliated in true female fashion by turning him into a pillow instead. Her cheek was plastered to his chest. Her arm lay heavy across his stomach and she had one leg thrown indifferently across both of his. Flyaway wisps of tangled brown curls were tickling his shoulder, neck and one side of his face. She was snoring. Soft little in-drags of breath that puffed out again, spreading sleepy warmth across his pecs and down his ribs, adding merciless fuel to the fire of his second problem—he had morning wood the likes of which no military man wanted to wake up with while living in a barracks full of men…like , ever .
    Except that Quint wasn’t in a barracks full of men right now. It was worse than that; he was waking up in bed with Elsie—his mortal enemy (well, maybe that was a bit overly dramatic) and the first woman he’d been to bed with since his last leave with Maydeen. What had that been…three years ago? Oh no, a full-on morning erection was the last thing he wanted to have to explain right now.
    He had to get out of this bed before he did something completely insane—like roll Elsie over, rip those pesky jeans off her for the second time in less than twelve hours and, in a long, slow thrust (a motion he was certain would be the single most satisfying movement his body ever made), bury his cock all the way up inside her. He could already feel the mind-blowing heat emanating from her hot little core, like a brand searing its beckoning heat right into his hip.
    Elsie softly snored again.
    He had to get out from under her. Right now. Before he forgot how much he didn’t like the thieving little wench and made love to her instead.
    H e tried to move, but she stopped snoring and he froze, praying like hell she wouldn’t wake up. No such luck. She scrunched, hugging her arm in, drawing her leg up his body until her thigh was stroking right up the underside of his cock, pressing it hot against his belly with the bulbous crown peeking out at him from under the elastic waistband of his underwear. When she pulled in a sleepy sigh, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes, Quint completely panicked.
    He erupted out of bed, throwing both her and the blankets back onto her side of the mattress and leaping over the protesting top of both in his mad-dash to the bathroom.
    “Hey!” she mumbled, thrashing to find her way out from under the blankets.
    Quint slammed the bathroom door and threw the lock.
    “Jackass !” she barked after him.
    Quint didn’t care. He leaned both hands on the edge of the sink and concentrated on breathing. Let her go ahead and think he’d awoken angry. She should be afraid he was angry. Hell, he ought to be angry, not sporting the love-log of all erections!
    “Jesus, man,” he growled, baring his teeth at his reflection. “Get it together.”
    A small fist battered the other side of the door. “You’re not the only one who needs to pee first thing in the morning!”
    Quint smacked the door right back. “There’s