“Wait—”
“Get some sleep, Grace.” I walked out of the room before she could say anything else. Before I could look at her face and see whatever was there and lose my resolve entirely.
The hallway was dark. I stood outside the closed door and tried to slow my breathing. It didn’t slow, but I made myself move. Down the hall to the main room, where the fire I’d built after we’d opened the egg had burned down to embers. I checked the front door—locked. Checked the windows—secure. Added a log to the fire and watched the flames catch. Checked the back door. Returned to the front window and stared into the darkness.
I could still taste her. Could still feel my fingers in her hair. Could still hear the sound she’d made when I’d kissed her.
Fuck.
Chapter 21
Grace
I woke up sweating.The guest room was cool, the duvet pulled up to my chin. But my body was taut, my pulse too fast, and fragments of a dream threaded through my waking mind. Garrett’s hands. His mouth on my neck. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress while I writhed underneath him.
‘Oh god,’I almost moaned out loud.
I squeezed my eyes shut, chasing the dream. Chasing the feeling of him between my thighs, of his hands on my breasts, and mine around his cock. I slipped my fingers into my underwear and stroked my clit, letting them slide lower to dip inside myself, pretending it was him.
‘You’re so wet for me,’I imagined him saying. Because I was. Holy hell, I really was.
It was good, but definitelynotas good as Dream-Garrett. I stroked harder, giving myself the friction I was craving, while snippets of the dream flitted through my brain. I was working so hard—desperate to sink back into that ecstasy—and my waking mind took over.
He’d kissed me. Kissed me and pulled me closer, like he was done denying himself something he wanted. I rolled my hipsagainst my palm and bit my lip as the orgasm started to build.Didhe want me? Or had the wine made my memories fuzzy?
Worry about reality later. Focus on the fantasy.
My imagination took over, and Memory-Garrett slid his hand down to my ass, squeezing it gently. Then he eased me back onto the bed. Stripped off my pajama pants and panties and ran his tongue along my slit. No, he pumped two fingers inside of me and sucked on my nipple. Yeah, that was it.
My own fingers pretended they were his, sinking inside myself while I squeezed my breast.That’s it, Garrett. The man had broad shoulders and thick arms, like the heroes in my favorite novels. But having those arms around me last night, when he hugged me, like I was saving him from every bad dream he’d ever had? I hadn’t grasped just how big he was until that moment.
Dream-Garrett was back again, thrusting deep inside me, telling me I was beautiful, telling me he loved my smile and my laugh. He’d bitten my lower lip in my dream, so waking-me did the same. I continued working myself, the dream and my fantasies weaving back and forth until my whole world exploded in the most amazing and blissful orgasm I’d had in forever.
My muscles all relaxed at once, and I let out one long, languid breath.
I blinked at the ceiling as my heartbeat slowly fell to normal levels. The bed wouldn’t have been wide enough for the two of us tojustsleep. Not like it would have been a horrible thing if more had happened. Although I didn’t pack condoms, because why would I have packed them? Did he? Garrett seemed to be the sort who was ready for anything—but for the kind of anything that showed up with a gun, not the kind that needed condoms.
It was just a kiss, Grace.
But it was anamazingkiss, no matter how short it had been. The way he’d gone still for half a second before his mouthopened against mine. His fingers sliding into my hair, his arm pulling me closer, the rough catch in his breath.
I probably shouldn’t have kissed him. Definitely shouldn’t have kissed him. But it had felt so right in the moment. And the way he’d kissed me back? Did that mean the attraction wasn’t one-sided? Or had he been caught off guard and was reacting like practically any man would react to a woman kissing him?
Was he even single? I sat up suddenly, staring at the door as though he might barge through and catch me with this flush on my face. Was I masturbating to a taken man? Had Ikisseda taken man? Wasthatwhy he’d backed off?
Maybe Izzy would know. No, she barely knew the guy either. Maybe she could casually ask Tristan?
Don’t be a coward. Ask him yourself.
With a sigh, I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was already after nine o’clock. This sleeping-in thing was becoming a habit. I hauled myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a morning touch-up. The short hallway led from the guest room, past a small bathroom, and to Jean’s bedroom at the far end. I followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen.
Jean stood at the stove, cooking scrambled eggs full of veggies, ham, and cheese, judging by the smell.
Garrett sat at the small dining table with a mug in front of him, his back to the wall. Our eyes met for exactly one half of one second, then he looked down at his coffee.
Okay. So that’s how we’re doing this.
“Ah, Grace!” Jean turned from the stove with a wide smile. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
