"You don't have to scream," she grumbled. "Or act like I have cooties or something." Emma flipped back her hair and peered at the hulking, angry male at the side of the bed. His bed, she noted.
How did we get here?
"I did not scream." A petulant retort that didn't detract from the lean strength of him clad only in tight-fitting underpants. The boxers may not have come from Earth, but the form-fitting shorts and the guy wearing them could have graced the cover of any modeling magazine back home.
Yum. She rolled onto her back and tucked an arm under her head to better enjoy the view.
He continued to rant. "Why is it every time I turn around, you're there?"
"Hey, don't blame me for last night, or day. How do you tell time here?" She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is you accusing me. As I recall, you barged in on me last night, er day, whatever."
"I caught you kissing JD." He felt his lip curl.