" The light on the bedside table next to Sarah brightens. “I’m awake now. I’m going to read for a bit, if it doesn’t bother you.”

“Wuthering Heights?” I yawn.

“Yes. Sleep well, Henry.”

And something about the way she says my name this time—the sweetness of her voice—makes me smile. Until . . .

“Hmm, hmmm, hmmm, hmmm, hmmmmm, hmm, hmm . . .”

And I’m once again staring at the ceiling. “What is that sound?”

“What? Oh, that’s me—sorry—I hum when I read.” The bed shakes as she shrugs. “Habit.”

“Well for Christ’s sake, don’t.”

I’m being an arse. When she doesn’t reply for a few seconds, I start to worry I’ve upset her. It’s not Sarah’s fault I’m tired—and horny. So horny. She doesn’t deserve to have her head ripped off.

But before I can apologize, she says, “And here I thought you were the type who’d enjoy a good hummer.”

And for a moment I’m stunned. And then I laugh, turning on my side, facing her. “Was that a joke, Sarah Titty-teet-butt-um?”

“It was supposed to be, yes.”

“And it was a dirty joke. I’m impressed. I’ll have to completely reevaluate my impression of you.”

She covers her lovely mouth with her hands. “They slip out from time to time "

― Emma Chase , Royally Matched (Royally, #2)