Fingers touched the top of her thigh. Cora shifted, letting out a small sound as she woke. She blinked, but the room she was in was very dark, the only light that which came from a chink in the thin curtain.

The motel.

She shifted, pushing up onto one elbow, and scanned the room. A shadow sat in the chair. Too broad to be Lars.

Those fingers moved, and the body behind her twisted against her.

She stiffened. Lars? It could only be him; she could make out the slim silhouette of Angel in the other bed.

Cora reached down, resting her hand on Lars’s. Forcing them to still. He let out a blustery breath against her bare back, and she realized her towel had come loose sometime in the night.

Shit.

She tried tugging it back into place, but it had twisted under her and, possibly, Lars.

The man murmured something, but it had the sound of someone speaking in a dream.

Was he still asleep? She drew his fingers off her thigh, let out a sigh, and tried to go back to sleep. But his hand returned, still cool, and cupped her hip bone. She tried pushing away his arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. His sleeping mind seemed to like the fact that she was practically naked beside him. He began exploring the length of her thigh, as if searching for underwear, and then felt around the curve of her ass.

Her body came alive in response. She blushed, trying to ignore the pleasant tingle that formed inside her.

Seriously, this was so wrong on so many levels—

“Lars!” she hissed, slapping away his hand.

The man sat up in a rush. “What?”

There was a metallic scrape, and she knew Finn had drawn his pistol from the nightstand. “What’s happened?”

Cora sat up too, and managed to retrieve her towel from under Lars’s hips. “Nothing. Just…you were…”

Finn’s chair creaked. “Should have warned you,” he said. “He does that.”

“Does what?” Lars murmured sleepily.

There was another scrape of Finn’s pistol as he set it back on the nightstand.

“Jesus.” Lars settled back down again, turning his back to Cora. “Just fell sleep,” he muttered angrily.

“Hey!” She poked him in the back. “You were…groping me.”

“You fucking wish,” he said, through a yawn.

Then he was asleep again, his breathing long and even.

“Finn!” Cora whispered urgently.

He let out a soft laugh. “He doesn’t know he does it,” Finn murmured.

“What?” She gripped her towel harder around her. Her leg had begun to ache now, as if realizing she was waking up.

“Just elbow him and he’ll turn around and stop bothering you.”

She lay back, trying to keep a few inches between her and Lars without falling off the bed.

He does that?

How the hell would Finn know?

And that opened up a plethora of thoughts that shouldn’t be crossing her mind. One of them, how Lars and Finn had seemed to be playing some kind of game with her last night. And not one they’d just made up. It had seemed…rehearsed?

Her mind ached for sleep, as did her body.

She couldn’t wait for morning; she had some serious talking to do herself.