Page 6

So I ignore my idiot dick and close my eyes, my head falling back against the wall behind. I could use some sleep too, and it’s that or get wound up about a sleeping woman I have no intention of touching anyway.

She wants me. I want her. And for damn sure I’m going to explore that a little more while we’re both stuck in here if I get the time. But now, she needs to sleep, and I’m going to be the perfect fucking gentleman and let her.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

I’m woken by a whispered, scandalised apology, a quick intake of breath and a sudden lightness in my lap. Holly sits bolt upright and blinks at me, owl-like, from within her bundle of covers, like she can’t remember how she ended up in my lap.

Her face is flushed but I’m not sure if it’s from sleep or embarrassment or heat. It’s stuffy in here now, the air warm. She must be overheating like crazy.

‘What time is it?’

She looks around as I dig my phone out of my hoodie pocket. I can’t believe it’s not even been a full hour since she drifted off. ‘Nine-thirty.’

‘Is that all?’ When I nod, she seems to consider it for a few seconds, then pushes the duvet off her shoulders to reveal a puffy jacket and some sweatpants. ‘It’s hot in here.’ She grabs the rail and hauls herself to her feet, walking to the door. ‘Is it hot in here or is it just me?’ She turns back and looks at me for my answer.

‘It’s a little stuffy,’ I admit. ‘But you are trussed up like you’re about to head up a dogsled team.’

She looks at herself and grimaces. ‘You’re right.’

Unzipping her jacket with one hand, she pulls the beanie off with the other. I open my mouth to protest – she looks damn cute in that beanie – but then her dark hair tumbles down over her shoulders, and the heat that left my groin when Holly removed herself from my lap surges back.

Not content to stop there, she shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it aside. The sweater she has on also goes as she toes off her Uggs. Suddenly, she’s a lot less bulky. There’s just a ribbedHenley that moulds to her tits and her stomach and maybe something else underneath, but not a bra.

I don’t need to be an expert in boobs – although I am – to see that.

‘That’s better,’ she announces.

I concur. ‘Don’t stop on my account.’

She blinks like it’s just occurred to her she’s performed a bit of a strip tease. Colour suffuses her cheeks, and this time the flush has nothing to do with the stuffiness of the elevator. She folds her arms and does that looking down her nose thing again.

If she thinks she’s hiding her tits from me, she’s wrong – the pull of her shirt across them makes me salivate. I want to put my mouth on them so bad my lips burn with the urge.

‘I think it’s far enough.’

Oh no. Not nearly far enough. But we’ll see. I laugh at her primness, though. I’m beginning to like how she condescends to me, which is about as fucked up as it gets. My balls ache with how much it turns me on.

She ignores my laughter as she gathers the duvet, gives it a shake, and spreads it over the floor. It takes up about half of the space, and she sits on top of it but against the opposite wall. Smart, smart woman.

‘Why do you do that?’

Her question surprises me as she glares across the space between us, stretching her legs out in front of her. Her socks are stripy, her thighs shapely. Her arms are crossed, and there’s a little V drawing her eyebrows together.

‘Why do I do what?’

I know what she’s asking, but I really want to see if she’ll say it. If she’ll put it out there. Too many times these past few weeks she’s walked away from the invitation in my eyes. Is she going to tackle it now?

She raises her chin. ‘Look at me like you… know me.’

Okay. She is going there. My dick stirs at the thought; my pulse quickens. Does she think her forthrightness will scare me off? That I’ll back down now she’s telling me she knows my game? ‘Because I do know you.’

She shakes her head. ‘No, you don’t.’

Her denial is swift and vehement. ‘Fair enough.’ My pulse drums slowly through my groin, the blood thick through my veins as I raise my hands in surrender. ‘But I know some things about you.’

She looks away, her hands falling to her sides to smooth the duvet cover. Her tits shift nicely, and I look my fill while her attention is elsewhere.

‘I know that I annoy you.’ She doesn’t say anything, just keeps working the duvet. ‘I know you don’t want to want me.’ Her hands halt. ‘But you do, anyway.’