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Sara's eyes widen in horror. "No way. I can't let you do that. The floor is too uncomfortable and you wouldn't get any sleep."
I sigh. "Sara, I'm not going to argue with you about this. I'm staying here and that's final."
Sara crosses her arms defiantly. "Fine. But you're not sleeping on the floor. We'll share the bed."
I raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Sara rolls her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Dimitri. We both need to get some sleep tonight and we won't be able to do that on the floor."
I nod slowly. "Alright. If that's what you want."
I shrug nonchalantly, trying not to let my eagerness show. "That's fine with me. Strictly platonic, I promise."
Sara eyes me warily, still looking uncertain. "No funny business then? You’ll keep your hands to yourself?"
I hold my hands up in mock surrender. "You have my word. I'll be a perfect gentleman."
She nods, seeming to relax a little. "Okay then. I'm going to get ready for bed."
Sara grabs her pajamas and heads to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. I settle onto the edge of her bed, resisting the urge to lie back and get comfortable.
This isn’t your bed, I remind myself.
When Sara returns, she avoids making eye contact as she slides under the covers on the relatively far side of the small bed. I follow suit, trying not to crowd her. We lay there awkwardly for a few moments, both staring up at the ceiling.
“Well… goodnight then," Sara says softly. “And… thank you, I guess.”
"Goodnight," I reply.
I hear her tossing and turning every few minutes.
"Having trouble sleeping?" I ask.
"Ugh, yes," she replies in frustration. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you awake."
"It's okay, I don't mind," I say gently. "It must be because of all the stress from today. I can help you relax if you want me to."
She hesitates. "How exactly are you going to help me relax?"
I smile. "Do you trust me?"
Sara snorts. "Absolutely not. But go ahead."
I chuckle. "Fair enough."
CHAPTER EIGHT
SARA
His arm wraps tight around me and he runs his fingers up and down the back of my upper arm. While his other hand rests on my belly. Goose bumps dot my flesh, and my nipples harden from the pressure of his hand.
I tense with anticipation, eager to see what part of my body his hand will travel next.
It moves slowly upward, fingertips trailing across my skin. His hand finds my breast. He cups my flesh. Glides his thumb over my tightening nipple. My back arches, as every hair on my arm stands on end. His mouth finds my ear.
His breath is warm and tickles as he says, “Have you ever been touched like this?”
“No,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
