The Rose He Showed Off Is Putting Down Roots in a Garden of Her Own novel Chapter 227

Since she was actually on her period, Zane was an absolute gentleman. He even blow-dried her hair for her.

When they finally crawled into bed, he pulled her back against his chest, resting a large, warm hand over her lower abdomen. "Any cramps?"

"I'm okay."

Elara felt a twinge of guilt for judging him so harshly earlier. Zane clearly wasn't just some sex-crazed predator; he held her all night without crossing a single line.

That guilt evaporated the absolute second she woke up the next morning.

His hand was already shoved up her shirt.

And the rigid heat pressing into her lower back was impossible to ignore.

The moment she shifted, he stirred awake, his hand instinctively gripping her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Elara wanted to slap him across the face.

Still half-asleep, Zane nuzzled into her neck.

"How are you so incredibly soft?" he slurred against her skin.

Elara hissed, "Let go."

Zane just locked his arms tighter around her like a spoiled child. "No."

"Can you please be decent for five minutes?"

"Am I not being decent? Or do you want a demonstration of what indecent actually looks like?"

"I do not. Get out of bed."

Zane refused to budge. "But what if I want to show you?"

"Stop acting like a dog in heat at seven in the morning. I already told you I'm out of commission today."

Zane let out a low laugh, pressing himself impossibly closer. He leaned into her ear. "It's called morning wood, sweetheart. It's biology, not decency, hmm?"

Did he seriously just purr at her?

That deep, vibrating hum rumbled straight from his chest into her spine, making her stomach flip. He was absolutely doing this on purpose to torture her.

"So tell me, Mr. Whitaker, how do you usually handle this?" she fired back.

"Take care of it in the shower, or run off to some VIP club to pay for it?"

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