Claire Sinclair slid to the foot of the bed, burrowed back under the covers, and patted the man's calf. She called out timidly, "Adrian Quincy, it's morning..."
Her voice was muffled by the blankets, so she didn't know if he'd heard her.
After a moment, the man stirred.
Claire Sinclair froze. Her mind suddenly blanked as she realized something...
'Why was I sleeping over here, and why was he sleeping over there?'
'Did this bizarre sleeping position mean we did something... strange last night?'
While her thoughts were in turmoil, the man suddenly slid over from under the covers, looming over and pinning her beneath him. His powerful, well-defined arms were right before her eyes.
Claire's heart was about to pound out of her chest. She swallowed hard. "Um... Good morning."
His response was a gentle good morning kiss.
